


Silence is Golden

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
“Fuck, this looks even creepier than when I was a kid,” Charlie muttered beneath his breath, glancing around the dusty floors of the Shrieking Shack.  
  
Daylight crept through the cracks in the old wooden walls as the sky brightened outside, the morning air oddly still and quiet for the raging battle which had taken place during the night.  
  
It was only then that Charlie heard a groan. In the corner, surrounded by blood, was a man. The moan came again and Charlie stepped towards him, ready to drop to his knees and give aid.   
  
“Who are you?” Charlie asked softly, reaching up to push the man's hair out of his eyes, which was thick with sweat and blood. He then recognised the shape of the nose and the colour of the barely visible irises. “Holy shit.”  
  
An indecipherable groan came again and Charlie's stomach turned as he realised he could see the wizard's throat muscles straining through the massive holes in the side of his neck.  
  
“Don't try to talk,” he instructed, frantically searching for the medical action that would be best. “Snape? I've got you now and I'm going to get you back to the castle.”  
  
A a word came, which may well have been 'no', but Charlie didn't heed it. He failed to see how Snape was still breathing, considering the amount of blood on the floor, but didn't question it as he cast a quick spell to plug up the wounds temporarily, and got to his feet. Snape's body lifted into his arms like a rag doll. He pushed the man's head into his chest for support, not wanting to strain his neck.  
  
Charlie was halfway to the door when a fist crumpled his t-shirt. He paused, staggered by the fact that Snape had the strength to make such a grab. He began walking again, keeping his arms firmly locked and strong.  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Blood.  
  
Nausea.  
  
Desperation.  
  
Cinnamon._  
  
Severus fought to hold onto his guts.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Why are you sitting there like that with him?” Ron frowned.  
“Because he won't let go of me,” Charlie answered tiredly, and not for the first time.  
  
He was sat, not by the side of the bed, but actually on the mattress, next to Severus Snape's still form, which had been cleaned up and plugged with blood replenishing potions, but had showed no more outward signs of life other than the tight grip he held on Charlie's top.  
  
Looking down into the face of the wizard, Charlie hated the fact that he couldn't seem to even _look_ peaceful when unconscious. There was something dark and troubled about his expression which Charlie assumed he would better understand if he knew the whole of Harry's story. He hadn't had the chance to ask about it.  
  
“Well, make him, you're strong, Char, and we need help strengthening what was broken. Just for now.”  
“Ron, if this was you,” Charlie gestured down at the long, thin body in the bed. “Would you want me to abandon you? Just leave you alone when you clearly wanted to touch somebody?”  
“He's not going to make it,” Ron lowered his voice. “You know that. He's as a good as dead.”  
“Shut up!” Charlie hissed. “He might be able to hear you.”  
“You're off your rocker, Charlie,” Ron shook his head and departed the hospital wing.  
  
“He's just in shock,” Charlie said to nobody in particular, and not for the first time was left wondering why he had chosen to stay with the man in the bed rather than supporting the rebuilding effort beyond the walls of the school infirmary.  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Cinnamon.  
  
Cinnamon.  
  
Broom polish.  
  
Cake._  
  
The nausea still held a grip on his stomach, but Severus concentrated on the scents, forcing it to recede just a little further.  
  


* * *

  
  
“What's the matter with you?”  
  
Charlie jumped at the sharpness in his mother's tone and dropped his hand, which had been absent-mindedly rubbing at the nape of his neck. It was sore from all the time he had spent bent over Snape's hospital bed.  
  
“Nothing,” he assured her with a gentle smile, and let out a silent breath of relief when her face relaxed and her arm went about his waist.  
“You don't know what it means to have you home with us now, Charlie.”  
“I think I do,” he shifted uncomfortably, looping his arm around her shoulders. “You know I do, Mum.”  
“Will it convince you to stay?”  
“For a few months, at least.”  
  
She pulled away and looked up at him, her eyes full of tears that he knew weren't wholly induced by his decision to remain in the country. They trickled down her cheeks as she attempted to blink them away, and Charlie wondered if there was anything worse than watching them.  
  
 _Yup. Watching Dad cry. That was..._  
  
His guts gave a squirm and his neck crept, but he still took his mother's embrace when it came. She was so short that her face pressed between his nipples, and her breasts into his belly, well fed by her own insistence.  
  
“I've missed you so much, Charlie.”  
  
He hummed his response, which he hoped sounded like an agreement, an assurance that he, too, had missed home, had missed her, and moments like the one they were sharing.   
  
Molly Weasley only allowed herself to indulge in it a moment longer, however, before she pulled abruptly back and scrubbed at her face. A hefty sniff, a few snorts, and she dragged her shoulders back and stared at him in a new light.  
  
“Look at you, you're filthy. Have you washed since it ended?”  
  
Charlie looked down at his tattered jeans, and his somewhat bloody and charred t-shirt, and was forced to shake his head.  
  
“Well that won't do, go and find yourself somewhere and have a wash. We're... after tomorrow, we'll be back in our own home, which is what we all need,” she said firmly. “But for now...”  
“I'm fine, Mum.”  
“You've spent too long in the hospital wing,” her miraculously dry eyes narrowed, though Charlie knew it was all a front. Inside, she was still crying. “Tending to man who doesn't know you're there and is never likely to wake up.”  
“Mum,” Charlie groaned, dropping his chin into his chest and moaning, feeling the stretch in his neck muscles. “You know how you always said when I was a kid if someone was suffering, you should try and help them if it didn't put us in danger?”  
“Yes,” she said quietly. “But-”  
“Well, just look at this as one time I actually listened to you. He needs someone.”  
“That someone isn't you.”  
“I don't understand you lot,” Charlie threw his hands up, his temper rearing out of his sleep-deprived body, and his frustration from the reactions of those around him. “From what I can make out, Harry owes him his survival. That means Ron does too.”  
“So you're telling me you're holding a bedside vigil because of your little brother?” Molly asked pointedly.  
  
“No,” Charlie groaned. “I can't... I just think that if it was me, I'd want someone there.”  
“Well, not to be rude, but you'd have somebody there,” Molly pointed out. “A family who loves you. If Severus Snape doesn't have that, then-”  
“It's his own fault?” Charlie gaped at her. “Mum, please, gods... don't finish that sentence.”  
“Well, I think plenty of people-”  
“Plenty of people aren't me,” he threw at her, and then turned on his heel.  
  
He heard her tears start again before he turned left at the end of the corridor. Only his own confusion stopped him from punching the wall and doubling back to her.  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Fresh air.  
  
Fresh air.  
  
No cinnamon._  
  
Severus was utterly confused by the way his guts churned at the clean scent, when he had no concept of when cinnamon had begun to comfort him.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Here, let me.”  
  
Charlie let his own clumsy fingers fall away as Bill's far more graceful ones took over the task of fastening the neck tie on his robes. If there was one thing Charlie hated more than his school uniform, it was traditional wizarding dress garb. He felt nothing more than a tent standing there as the fabric pooled off his muscles, making him glad it was not a windy day. His brother stood in front of him, tall, elegant, and for the moment, perfectly composed, whilst Charlie's inadequacy seemed to scream from every pore in his body in comparison.  
  
“Scrub up nicely when you make the effort,” Bill said quietly, looking him up and down and giving a slight nod.  
“Not that it really matters,” Charlie automatically lifted his hand and pulled at the tight neck, which felt like it was attempting to strangle him. “Fred wouldn't have wanted this.”  
  
He gestured between two bodies of fine black material and made a disapproving face.  
  
“No,” Bill agreed. “But the rest of the wizarding world...”  
“I don't see why we're not burying him at home,” Charlie muttered flatly. “That's where he belongs. Not here.”  
“It's... what's right. He died fighting for a cause. And if there's one thing Fred liked, it was a bit of glory.”  
“What is it with us?” Charlie asked suddenly, looking out of the mullioned window to the slowly-filling school grounds. “The people in our family that can't help but go after a bit of glory... you with your grave robbing. Me and the dragons. Perce and his ambition. The twins and their shop. Ron and his need to be better than all of us... Ginny...”  
“Ginny had all the glory before she even made it out of Mum's belly,” Bill pointed out. “She was the star attraction after six hard failures.”  
“You sound like Ron,” Charlie snorted, and shook his head, patting to check his cigarettes were in his pocket.  
“Don't let Mum catch you with those.”  
“In twenty-six years have I ever been that stupid?” Charlie rolled his eyes and made for the door.  
  
Bill didn't answer him, but the hot hand in the small of his back was both comfort, pressure and a plea for support.  
  
***  
Charlie kept his footsteps quiet, hoping that nobody would notice the fact that he had slipped away from the ridiculously large wake being held in the Great Hall. He couldn't stand it, he found, to look at the sombre faces, the pale, the crying, those who were so confused by their conflictual desire to weep and cheer at the same time.  
  
The neck of his robes had been ripped open and Charlie felt much better away from them all, where his freckled face wasn't an obscene splash of colour when he should look like those they mourned, and where his hair didn't look too happy for the occasion.  
  
The door to the hospital wing was silent as he pushed through it, expecting to find the room devoid of visitors, and possibly even the nurse. He was surprised to see a figure sitting by Snape's bed, head bowed, and one hand firmly holding onto what Charlie knew were icy fingers.  
  
He was about to turn away and give the man his peace when the blond looked up at him, fixing him with a suspicious stare in grey eyes. It was only a second longer before Charlie realised who he was looking at. The geniality granted to him by his long absence made him take a step towards the bed, towards a Malfoy, his supposed family enemy.  
  
“I... sorry,” he mumbled finally. “I didn't expect anybody to be up here with everybody down in the hall.”  
“I need to get back,” the tall, older man unfolded from the uncomfortable chair and reverently laid Snape's slim hand down by his side again. “I just thought it might be... prudent for somebody to sit with him whilst it all went on.”  
“I know what you mean,” Charlie let his eyes follow the long line of Snape's still legs beneath his blankets, over his waist and chest and up to his emotionless face.  
  
Somewhere along the line, his tension had slackened, leaving behind a sombre mask of silence, almost of death, which Charlie wasn't sure he preferred.  
  
“I am told you've been spending a lot of time by him?” Lucius Malfoy's eyes flicked sharply to the prone man and then back to Charlie. “Might I ask why?”  
“I couldn't answer you even if I wanted to,” Charlie shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I just feel that he's... alone, and he shouldn't be.”  
“Severus made choices which brought him that loneliness,” Lucius commented, but there was no malice or judgement in his tone. “Still... I suppose your intention is kind enough, for someone like him.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“If he wakes up,” Lucius' voice dipped to a whisper. “Do you really believe he'll be better off, Weasley?”  
“Charlie,” he corrected firmly, refusing to enter into a last-name basis which would give the man superiority over him. “And no, I suppose not. But if he's going to die, then doing that alone isn't... right... either, is it?”  
  
Lucius stared at him again before moving to the end of the bed. “I suppose not. Even though, really, that is what's right for him.”  
  
Without another word the wizard was gone, and Charlie plopped silently down into his vacated seat. The irony slammed into him hard that the castle was full of those mourning their losses, their loved ones whose lives had been taken far too soon, and he had just participated in a conversation which implied the man on the bed would be better off following them.  
  
Engrossed in his thoughts, Charlie reached up to rub his fingers over his lips. In his mind, he couldn't help but equate the situation to what he would do if it was a dragon, so badly injured that it's life would be lesser on waking.  
  
 _No question, you'd get the poison, inject it near to the heart, and let them go._  
  
He didn't even have to think twice about it. Charlie loathed it when people referred to him as 'the dragon tamer'. They were foolish to think that such beasts could ever be conventionally tamed when, as Charlie had always believed, they never should be. Kept, certainly. Bred, studied, looked after. Never tamed. What was best for them always came to the forefront of his mind.  
  
So why, as he sat looking at Severus Snape's still form on the bed, was the question so different for humanity? Were there not the same principles involved, a beast too wild to be tamed, too different to be classed as a single breed, too passionate to be kept under true lock and key. In essence, the same beating hearts, the same blood, the same organs. His fingers tingled as he sat there.  
  
“What are you thinking?” he hissed at himself suddenly, as his rationality cut through his thought process and shook him. “You can't kill him for his own good, that's murder!”  
  
Moaning and dropping his face into his hands, Charlie knew just how far the lack of sleep had pushed him.  
  
“Fucking idiot,” he groused at himself and shook his head, hard, forcing the thoughts away. He reached up and scrubbed hard at his face, pulling at the skin and making his eyes burn as fresh air assaulted the parts which were never normally revealed.  
  
Blinking through the dryness, Charlie stared at the bed and nearly fell off his chair. Severus Snape's dark eyes were open, surveying him with utter confusion, and then they swept upward and blinked a few times at the ceiling. Bloodless lips parted and Charlie's eyes glued to the man's throat, which was heavily bandaged.  
  
 _This is where you find out it severed your vocal chords too much for repair._  
  
The feeble croak which broke free seemed damning enough, and Charlie felt his heart sink. He rose up out of his chair and outstretched a hand, causing onyx eyes to simply stare in his direction.  
  
“Don't speak,” Charlie hovered over him. “Don't... it's not good for your throat. Do you remember what happened?”  
  
There was a slight jerk of one black eyebrow and Charlie wanted to kick himself.  
  
“Blink,” he rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. “Blink once for yes, twice for no. Do you remember?”  
  
One blink. Snape's eyelashes were quite long, Charlie noticed.  
  
“So you remember the shack, giving Harry what he needed?”  
  
Another blink.  
  
“Harry finished him,” Charlie said quietly. “It's over. All over now.”  
  
There was no reaction in Snape's face, but Charlie found himself unsurprised. Without thinking he reached out and laid his hand over Snape's own, finding the fingers still cold. His touch made the hand beneath his own jerk.  
  
“Does that bother you?”  
  
Dark eyelashes swept up and down twice, and Charlie noticed some colour tinge on Snape's pale cheeks. He couldn't help a gentle smile at the humanity. He noticed, after moment of dumbly staring, that Snape was looking at his robes.  
  
“Oh, today we've... we've buried... everyone that needed it. My brother...”  
  
Snape's eyes flew wide and his mouth opened, dry lips cracking with the effort as he mouthed the word 'Ron?'  
  
“No, Ron's safe. Fred, one of the twins,” Charlie said uncomfortably, as his back ached with his awkward position. “About fifty others. Remus Lupin and his wife.”  
  
The worry was gone, and there was certainly no remorse, and somehow, even though he had no idea why, Charlie sensed history, back story he didn't understand. He was spared the moment progressing further, however, by the hospital wing door opening.  
  
“I assure you, Mr Weasley, your brother is not in the-”  
  
Madam Pomfrey stopped dead and stared in Charlie's direction, and Ron could be seen over her shoulder with a sardonic look on his face.  
  
“Charlie-”  
“He's awake,” Charlie straightened, gesturing with his free hand, but kept his other gently over Snape's own.  
“I specifically said nobody was to be in here during the memorials and - _what?!_ ”  
“He's awake.”  
  
Charlie didn't understand the warm grin which he was unable to keep from his lips. It twisted them and refused to budge, even when the nurse threw him an odd look and tried to shoo him away.   
  
“We're communicating in blinks,” Charlie hastily explained. “One for yes, two for no. He remembers the shack and I've updated him... on the basics.”  
“Which was foolish,” the older woman glared at him. “You might have distressed him.”  
“He seems like the type of bloke that'd want to know,” Charlie said defensively, and wrapped his arms over his chest with smug satisfaction when Snape blinked once.  
  
Slim fingers, resting on the blanket where Charlie had left them, lifted slightly.  
  
“Want me to hold your hand again?” Charlie asked quietly, ignoring the fact that Ron looked like he was about to go into apoplectic shock. The blink was accompanied by a filthy look, but Charlie ignored it and placed his hand back where it had previously sat.  
  
 _Or where it belonged?_  
  


* * *

  
  
Severus was not impressed. Having had the power of speech robbed from him felt like a base violation. Every time he opened his mouth his tongue moved before he remembered that there was little point. His eyes ached from the blinking system, but at least he was now sitting, propped by several pillows and he was able to scrawl short messages when he had the strength.  
  
 _Not that that is often._  
  
After gaining access to a pencil, given to him by the odd, curly haired man who seemed drawn back to his bedside for reasons Severus had given up trying to fathom, he had immediately requested that he be moved from the main ward to a more private area.  
  
The scowls and stares of the students made him physically ache, though he knew he deserved them. It was that deserving which kept his request from becoming a demand. He had been Headmaster of Hogwarts, and had deserted his post, whilst committing other crimes which several of the community would want to hold him in account for.  
  
It was galling to sit in bed whilst the world flew by outside the windows, being rebuilt about him and important decisions being taken which would no doubt affect his future.  
  
Severus jumped as he heard footsteps. The one disadvantage to having been moved to the more secluded room off the main ward -where he had been patched up after several of the Dark Lord's 'tests' of allegiance- was that he could not immediately see the identity of his visitors.  
  
However, the weight of the step, and the slight shuffle between them, was a give away. There were only a further few seconds before red curls appeared before a face, which was smiling. Charlie walked towards him. Severus stared back and didn't say anything, because he couldn't, but should the ability have seized him then and there, he was still unsure of the words he would have selected.  
  
He had no idea why the redhead frequented his bedside so often. It boggled his mind.  
  
“Hey,” Charlie swung a chair towards him and settled onto it backwards, resting his arms on the back. “How are you?”  
  
Severus pointed to the pad and the quill on the table.  
  
“What happened to the pencil?” Charlie frowned as he handed it over. “That was so much easier.”  
  
Severus scratched out his message and passed it back.  
  
 _'Interfering old woman stole it and hasn't brought it back. Doesn't blot the crossword.'_  
  
Charlie's amber-brown eyes widened as he read the words and then he laughed, thick and rich in the tiny room.  
  
“I'll get you another one, they're so much easier than quills,” he shook his hair out of his eyes. “I used them in the field rather than pissing about with ink and stuff. Muggles have got some things right, eh?”  
  
Severus gave him a curd nod and winced at the pain in his neck as he did so.  
  
“Still hurting?” Charlie asked sympathetically.  
  
 _'No, I feel marvellous.'_  
  
Charlie just snorted and got up again, drifting to the window and looking out over the grounds.  
  
Severus looked at his thick body and the elegant slouch of his shoulders, the jut of his hip out to one side with one knee bent. Charlie Weasley possessed a beautiful grace in his sloppiness; the type that Severus had always envied.   
  
“Have they said how long they think it'll be before they let you out of here?” Charlie looked over his shoulder.  
  
Severus gave a stiff shake of his head and rolled his eyes to convey how he felt about that fact. Charlie snorted and walked back to the bed. He turned the chair round and sat down in it properly. The podge of his belly showed through his t-shirt as he settled down, and Severus found himself unable to tear his eyes from it, and the way it settled above a denim-covered crotch. He didn't think he had ever seen the redhead out of the ripped, scruffy jeans.  
  
He scribbled a message with his quill and shoved the pad at Charlie.  
  
 _'Don't you change your clothes?'_  
  
Charlie's amber-brown eyes read the message, and narrowed with playful anger.  
  
“Don't you start, I've already got Mum on my case,” thick fingers carded back through curly hair. “I don't think that she understands that when I got the message about the battle, I just threw myself into a Portkey and hit the ground running. I didn't bring anything but my wand. Lucky I was on my night off. Or not...”  
  
Something shifted in Charlie's face and Severus frowned, asking a silent question.  
  
“I was with my sort-of boyfriend,” Charlie said sheepishly. “Things were... yeah. I just ran. I don't think he's my boyfriend any more.”  
  
 _'If he can't understand the reasons why you left, then was he worth it?'_  
  
“He was _definitely_ worth it,” Charlie said lewdly, almost as a knee-jerk reaction and Severus couldn't help the twitch of his lips into a smile.  
“Smiling looks good on you,” Charlie said softly, leaning forward in his chair.  
  
Severus held his gaze until he grew uncomfortable, and then looked down at his pad. There was a question he had been dying to ask since he'd woken up and the room had stopped spinning, but he hadn't felt secure enough to ask it. However, with Charlie leaning forward, and his glowing eyes soft, Severus poised the quill and scratched out his message.  
  
 _'Why do you come here to sit with me, Weasley?'_  
  
“Even on paper you can't use my first name,” Charlie laughed, tipping his head back and shaking it in disbelief.  
  
 _'Why?'_ Severus wrote insistently.  
  
There came a long suffering sigh and then Charlie reached up to scratch sheepishly at his nose. “My family are asking me the same thing. Never really know what to say to them to be honest. I don't know what to say to you either.”  
  
Severus didn't bother to put anything else down.  
  
“I just... I was the one that found you. Bill tells me I have weird ideas about destiny and what I owe people and shit like that. But I brought you back here, when everyone said I should have left you there, and hell, you might have wanted to be left there. I just think if I can give you anything it's a bit of company, right?”  
  
He looked up hopefully, but Severus could do no more than stare back impassively. Whatever satisfaction Charlie was getting from his visits, Severus didn't feel it. He didn't get anything from the redhead's company, nor did he feel any better about his situation. He was bed-ridden, mute, and the Ministry was talking about stripping him of his assets. It was humiliating to have a Potter fighting for his rights. Severus barely repressed his shudder and realised he failed when Charlie's freckled face fell.  
  
“If you don't want me to come,” he said quietly, “Then I won't. You should have said earlier.”  
  
 _'I don't understand.'_  
  
“Neither do I,” Charlie shrugged and got to his feet. “I really don't. I'll see you another time, yeah? Send me word if there's anything you'd like me to bring you.”  
  
There was a final friendly nod, and Severus watched the only company he'd had for three days depart through the infirmary door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; mentioned character deaths; angst, shower smut, what could be considered non-con mind reading.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." Why does it all have to be so complicated?

Severus was mostly sure he was dreaming. He had to be. There was no way that he could possibly be party to the scene before him if he _wasn't._  
  
For one thing, he was somewhere he never went, not even when he was a teenager. The hot steam of the Hogwarts Quidditch changing rooms was thick and choking, strangely perfumed. It coiled into his senses and stole them away.  
  
The scent was nothing, however, compared to the sight. In front of him two seventeen-year-old boys stood, completely naked, dripping wet and completely occupied -with each other. One of them had blond hair dyed dark by the water, and the other had curly red hair, which had grown wild in the heat and darkened with dampness. Some of it stuck to his temples, straggling into his eyes, and his amber-brown irises were hidden as he blinked madly, trying to remove it.  
  
A loud moan forced Severus' heart to pound as he watched. The blond sank to his knees and put his mouth to what, Severus then saw, was an amply sized penis standing erect from a blazing patch of red hair at Charlie Weasley's groin. Over his hip a shoot of fire flared. A tattoo. Severus found his mouth dry.  
  
 _Where am I?_  
  
He couldn't tear his eyes away as Charlie's head tipped back, sending his hair over his shoulders and elongating his throat which was delicious, despite his young age. The boy's fingers threaded through his companion's hair, holding him fast to his crotch.  
  
“Godric,” Severus murmured to himself, but found no sound emerged.   
  
Nothing felt right. Charlie's hips rolled, pressing his cock deeper into his partner's mouth, and he rose up off his heels, strong thighs tightening with the pressure. The joints in his toes bleached white as they took the pressure of his burly body.  
  
“Yeah... oh god, just like that... suck it...”  
  
Shivering, Severus watched as, with a final few slurps to his cock, the redhead came undone in his friend's mouth and growled his completion out to the shower room.  
  
“Unghhhh, you...” he panted, releasing the boy's hair and sagging back against the shower wall.  
  
The blond got to his feet and approached again. Severus only realised too late, when he was watching it, that during the kiss they shared, they also shared Weasley's semen.  
  
And with that, and a gasping jerk, Severus flew upright in bed, blinking at the dark hospital ward.  
  
He found an erection poking him in his non-existent belly and stared stupidly down at it, as though he had no idea what it was or what to do with it. As he sank down on his pillows, however, his hand crept south and knew _exactly_ what to do. His hand was cold and made him hiss as he pulled once, twice, his mind flooded with the images he had just seen. They were all he needed, he found -the sounds, and the _look_ on Charlie's face as he gave way to his orgasm. Severus spilt seconds later, coating his palm in hot seed and forcing a gasp out of his lips.  
  
A slight snort then made him realise that he was not alone in the room. Holding his breath, Severus reached with his clean hand for his wand. After freshening his soiled palm, and the inside of his pyjamas, he wordlessly lit some candles around his bed. As they flickered to life, he saw the form of Charlie Weasley spread out in an uncomfortable chair. His legs were flung wide, and between them, pressing hard into the zipper of faded, ripped jeans, was a thick column of flesh.  
  
Severus peered at him. His eyes were closed in obvious slumber, his breathing deep and even. Unable to stop watching -as he had been unable in the dream- Severus saw the buck forward of the man's hips. He looked so carefree, so peaceful; a loud snore rumbled out of his lips.  
  
 _Did he never leave?_  
  
For some reason, Charlie had visited him that lonely Sunday evening. Severus glanced at the clock and found that they were in the early hours of Monday morning, and the redhead was still by his side. He was no closer to discovering why Charlie visited him. He wasn't sure that even if he had had the voice with which to ask, he would have been any the wiser. Charlie Weasley seemed content to be secretive -as silent as Severus, in a way, but through choice, not circumstance.  
  
A moan replaced the snore, and Severus glanced up in time to see the whole of Charlie's thick frame tense, clearly in the midst of completion. A lazy hand palmed his cock through his jeans, and another sultry growl followed. It was then all over, and the Weasley slumped backwards in his chair, probably unaware of his pleasure, and the voyeur who had witnessed it all.  
  
Breathless and hot, Severus laid back on his bed and extinguished the candles. The scent of cinnamon was rife on the air, and as it had during the darkness of unconsciousness, it smelt sweet, and right.  
  
***  
When he awoke next, there was light pouring through the mullioned window. Someone had drawn the curtains back just an inch, enough to flood the room. He blinked stupidly. He missed his dungeon, where the morning light never reached, allowing him to wake up at his own pace. He opened his mouth to moan before he remembered that he couldn't.  
  
“Morning.”  
  
The chirpy voice made his breath catch in his throat, and Severus immediately blushed. Charlie looked at him with a smile, before he got to his feet.  
  
“I think I fell asleep here last night,” he grimaced apologetically. “Sorry... Hope I didn't snore.”  
  
 _You did much more than snore!_  
  
Severus gestured for his notepad and Charlie handed it over, complete with a new pencil, as he had promised.  
  
 _What were you dreaming about last night? You were rather vocal..._  
  
He expected a blush, or even a grin, but Charlie seemed unaffected by the news that he had spent the night groaning like a whore in front of a man he barely knew.  
  
 _Maybe he doesn't remember his dreams?_  
  
Severus always remembered his own. They were mostly nightmares, which explained his recollection.  
  
“Just an old... partner,” Charlie shrugged. “My first, actually.”  
  
 _Oh?_  
  
“Aye, my first boyfriend,” Charlie finally smiled. “His name was Merlin. He never forgave his mum for calling him that,” Charlie snickered. “But he was... great. But when I moved to Romania we lost touch, so... that's the way it rolls, right? I gave up a lot to go.”  
  
 _Shame._  
  
Charlie nodded and resolutely changed the subject. “Here's your breakfast. You've slept in late and Pomfrey's been worried, buzzing about all morning... I'll leave you to it.”  
  
 _Goodbye. Thank you for your company._  
  
“You don't have to thank me for the fact I'm forcing myself on you,” Charlie laughed, picked up his jacket, and headed through the door without another word.  
  
Severus stared at the tray the redhead had placed in his lap. He didn't fancy any of it, but not eating it would have caused a row with the nurse, and he didn't have the energy.  
  
 _Because you spent the night masturbating when you're not even homosexually inclined._  
  
That confused him, Severus acknowledged, as he picked up a piece of toast. What confused him completely, however, was how on earth he had managed to tap into Charlie Weasley's mind, view his erotic dream, and not even know that he was doing it.  
  
The first bite of buttery bread caressed his tongue, and deep in thought, Severus found himself hungrier than he had expected.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Where on earth have you been?!” his mother cried, as Charlie tried to sneak back into the kitchen unnoticed.  
“Out,” he smiled at her. “That smells good. Any there for me?”  
“Of course, but not until you tell me where you spent the night.”  
  
Charlie fought to keep a sarcastic retort under control and arranged his face into a smiling expression. “I was with a friend.”  
“What friend?”  
“Mum,” he took a deep breath. “I get that you want to watch over all of us, and you want to keep us safe... but I'm twenty-six. I have a life. I can look after myself, yeah?”  
“You were at Hogwarts again, weren't you?” she narrowed her eyes. “With Snape?”  
  
There was no point in lying, Charlie knew. “Yes.”  
“Is there something going on that I don't know about?” his mother turned to the hob and began mounting food onto a plate for him.  
“Well, if there's something you don't know, I don't know it either,” Charlie shrugged, slipping into his usual position at the table. “Anybody else up yet?”  
“We're the only ones who didn't go to bed in the first place,” Molly sighed, handing him the plate and cutlery. “Ketchup?”  
  
Charlie grinned as she handed him the bottle and he upended it over his bacon. “Ta.”  
“I don't understand this strange obsession you've developed with him,” Molly sat down with a cup of tea. “Can you... explain it?”  
“It's not an obsession... but I do feel sort of... responsible.”  
“For his actions?” she asked, aghast.  
  
Charlie groaned through a mouthful of fried egg and shook his head. “No,” he swallowed. “If he was meant to die that day, I was the one that stepped in and stopped it. I saved his life, Mum... and maybe fate had other plans for him.”  
  
She stared for him. “You don't believe in fate, Charlie, just like you don't believe in luck.”  
“I've been doing a lot of thinking lately,” he said defensively, looking down at his food. “I don't know what I believe in any more... do any of us, after what happened?”  
“Don't you get philosophical on me, Charles Weasley,” she scowled at him. “Eat your breakfast. Did you sleep?”  
“Enough,” Charlie nodded, as the ache in his neck worsened with the motion.  
“Good, then you can come shopping with me today. We're running low on just about everything and I need a big strong lad to carry everything for me.”  
  
Charlie didn't argue, but steadily made his way through his food. He loathed the supermarkets, full of people and trolleys and overpriced food. He much preferred Romania, with the small village shop where you got whatever was available, which was never very much.  
  
“Don't make that face,” she scolded with a tender smile, and reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear. “This is getting too long again.”  
“Nuh-uh,” Charlie jerked his head away. “I'll be your shop boy but I'm not letting you near my hair, woman.”  
  
Her laugh was warm and soft; it was good to hear after the dreary week that had passed since Fred's funeral. Her eyes had become permanently bloodshot.  
  
“It's so nice to have you home.”  
  
Charlie was beginning to dread hearing those words out of her mouth.  
  
***  
“Do you think that it's disrespectful to bring flowers into the house?” his mother mused to him.   
“What?” Charlie frowned. “No. Why would it be?”  
“Colourful... joy... beauty,” she paused at the paltry display at the start of the muggle supermarket.  
“Mum, we can't be miserable forever,” Charlie pointed out. “Fred wouldn't want us miserable full stop.”  
“But George...”  
“Needs to see normality,” Charlie shrugged. “I remember you always having flowers in the house when we were kids... we liked them.”  
“Even though you were all naughty little boys?”  
“I was never naughty!” Charlie said with mock offence. “I was an angel.”  
“With horns,” she smiled.  
“I like to think of them as moments when my halo slipped,” he grinned back.   
“You were better than the twins. Less likely to cry than Ron.”  
“Ron cried at _everything_ ,” Charlie reminisced.  
  
“And yet, I haven't seen him shed a single tear over the past week... I'm worried about him.”  
“You're worried about all of us for a different reason, Mum. Maybe he's just found a different way of dealing with his emotions to when he was little.”  
“Which is ironic, seeing as you were the one who could calm him down, and now you're finally here again, he doesn't need you.”  
  
Those words shouldn't have caused an ache in his chest, Charlie supposed. Ron was a man, who had fought and seen things that Charlie had not -but the idea that his baby brother didn't _need_ him any more was galling.  
  
“I'll never understand why you moved away,” Molly said quietly, beginning to reach out for items as she saw them. “Not when you look like that when you think they don't miss you any more.”  
“Because I wanted to work with dragons,” Charlie gave the generic answer. “I needed to... it was all Quidditch and boyfriends and... I didn't want that life.”  
“Boyfriends?”  
  
A tub of butter hit the floor with a thud. Charlie felt the blush heighten on his cheeks and bent to pick it up at the same time as his mother, forcing their heads to collide.  
  
“Ow,” they hissed at the same time.  
  
When they straightened, Molly was clutching the butter and Charlie was rubbing his forehead.  
  
“Well, it's not a surprise,” she looked at him. “I only wish you'd told me when you decided, rather than however many years down the line in the middle of the dairy aisle.”  
  
Charlie couldn't help a snicker at her words, and was rewarded with a sweet smile in return.  
  
“I didn't decide,” he said quietly, turning back to the trolley and pushing it forward, keeping his gaze on the items as they passed. “I've just always... been that way.”  
“But you've had girlfriends...”  
“Not many, and they never lasted long...” _I've never had sex with a woman._  
“Is there anybody special?”  
  
Charlie's mouth became dry as he turned, passing the fish counter at the end of the shop, and nearly choked on the high smell of it in the air.  
  
“There was,” he admitted. “In Romania. But I don't think he'll be waiting for me, so...”  
“Then he wasn't worth it,” his mother ruled immediately.  
“I think he was,” Charlie tried to keep the glumness out of his tone.  
  
A warm hand landed on his arm, and Charlie looked up at her.  
  
“Everything makes so much more sense now,” her eyes were wide.  
  
Charlie had no idea what made sense to the woman, but he didn't ask as she bustled away from him, leaving him to drag his feet as he pushed the trolley, and tried not to think of Romania.  
  


* * *

  
  
Severus was confused, again. He could see two redheads in front of him, one very young, and the other could only have been around the age of eleven.  
  
The younger was howling with tears running over his face, eyes puffy and red and his fingers clenched into fists.  
  
“You can't!”  
“Ron, I have to go to Hogwarts,” Charlie Weasley grabbed his little brother around the waist and lifted him into his lap.  
  
There was another indignant shriek and the distraught three-year-old stuffed his face into the older Weasley's neck. In that moment, when Ron couldn't see him, Severus saw Charlie's expression break, his lower lip quiver with emotion. From an outsider's point of view, as he held, it was easy to see that Charlie sat as equally volatile as the brother he held in his arms. There was something in his eyes which screamed it.  
  
“Severus?”  
  
The image of the brotherly affection flew far away, and Severus jerked awake. He knew what was waiting for him. Charlie Weasley sat in his usual chair, staring out of the window, clearly far away. The voice which had spoken to him belonged to the nurse, hovering over his bed, looking concerned.  
  
“You were so deeply under then you had me worried,” she breathed with a relieved smile. “Now then, Severus, we need to talk.”  
  
He stared up at her; those words from her mouth had never done him the slightest bit of good in his seventeen years at Hogwarts as a teacher.  
  
“Charlie, would you give us a moment alone?”  
  
The redhead seemed slow to react, his head turning at least twenty seconds after her request, and his eyes remained unfocussed.  
  
“Stay,” Severus open his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a scratched grunt. Colour flooded his face.  
“Don't talk,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly.  
  
Severus simply glared at her, feeling ashamed.  
  
“See you tomorrow,” Charlie got to his feet and shuffled for the door.  
  
Severus opened his mouth again to call out, and pounded his fist into the blankets with frustration when he realised he had forgotten his muteness, yet again. He snatched the pad off the bedside table and scribbled on it, his anger turning his handwriting near-illegible.  
  
For wont of not involving the nurse, he threw the pad at the departing Weasley's back, where it landed with a smack and the freezing of the large bone structure.  
  
“Oi,” Charlie whipped round, throwing him a filthy look. “No need for that, you old git.”  
  
He stooped and picked up the pad, squinting at the writing. When he absorbed the words, his expression softened, and Severus stared at him blankly. Tearing off the top sheet of paper, Charlie screwed it up and put it in his pocket as he walked back to his chair and sat down. The school nurse watched the exchange between them with a mild expression of shock.  
  
Severus waved his hand for her to go on.  
  
“Well, I just think that I've reached the end of my knowledge. I've tried everything to repair you. I know you don't want to go to the hospital,” -Severus glared harder and made an action with his hand which he hoped translated well to 'absolutely not'- “But really, Severus. I think you should go now. If you want a chance of ever speaking again, then... please. Think about it. We can make the arrangements immediately, and Harry can smooth the transition over with Auror guard...”  
  
The last thing Severus wanted was a favour from Potter, or to be guarded by him. He felt weak enough -but to be protected by the boy he had given his life to protecting would have been akin to a complete emasculation.  
  
Two faces stared at him expectantly, and when he offered nothing, Madam Pomfrey let out a long suffering sigh and left without another word. As she entered the main ward, they heard her muttering beneath her breath; Severus knew exactly what she was calling him.  
  
He looked to Charlie, who stared back uneasily.  
  
“What do you have against the hospital?” he asked softly. “They might be able to repair your vocal chords.”  
  
 _'Maybe they are meant to remain severed.'_  
  
“Don't tell me you think that's fate based on some awful name pun?” Charlie raised an eyebrow.  
  
Severus shook his head and looked out of the window, ignoring the ache in his throat which came whenever he turned his neck in such a way.  
  
“Is it because you're afraid?”  
  
He might have given himself whiplash for the speed that he turned around to glare at the redhead, allowing his top lip to curl into a snarl even though he couldn't accompany it with harsh words. Even still, the effect it had on the wizard in front of him was surprising. Charlie's mouth opened and closed, and then he blushed and looked down at his thighs.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Wondering how he still held such power, even mute, Severus huffed through his nose and gestured for the pad again. Charlie passed it over, his movements slow and careful as though he was trying to keep everything calm, to prevent Severus from losing control.  
  
 _Like I would ever deign to lose that in front of him._  
  
Severus busied himself with writing on the pad. He didn't bother to keep his words friendly -somehow, he knew that the Weasley by his bedside didn't expect them to be, nor would he be offended by their brashness.  
  
 _'My reasoning for wanting to remain is something I will not share with you, Weasley. Just because you have appointed yourself my bedside guardian, does not mean I have to tell you anything, or provide you with an insight into my emotions. If you expect me to do so, you will be sorely disappointed. Get out.'_  
  
“Wow,” Charlie mumbled as he read it. “You're mean even on paper.”  
  
Severus snatched it back and scribbled again.  
  
 _'I am a mean person. I am not nice. Just because I am mute my personality won't change overnight.'_  
  
Charlie nodded and got to his feet, burying his hands in his pockets.  
  
“I guess not,” he conceded, and ambled to the door. “I'm sorry, though, that she can't help you here. For what it's worth, I don't think you should go to the hospital either. Someone could hurt you there. Someone could easily attack you and then you'd die, and all my hard effort would go to waste...”  
  
He grimaced and left, departing through the door.  
  
Severus hadn't expected to be agreed with. He had _expected_ a lecture, pleading, maybe even threats. Weasley's compliance infuriated him, and the thought that Charlie considered saving his life to have been 'hard effort' made him furious.  
  
Without another thought, Severus sliced his hand through the charmed alarm area which would bring the nurse running to his side, and scribbled out a message to tell her to begin the transfer procedure.  
  
 _Hard effort my backside, Weasley. If it is ruined now, then it serves you right._  
  


* * *

  
  
“What are you doing out here?”  
  
Charlie looked up and sighed. “Just got a bit hot in the kitchen.”  
“Liar,” his father smiled, and walked up to the fence.  
  
Like Charlie, he rested his elbows on the boundary fence and looked into the woodland which bordered the lane leading to the Burrow.  
  
“Go home, Charlie.”  
  
The words were softly spoken, but they shook Charlie regardless. He looked sideways, eyes wide with shock.  
  
“I am home,” he croaked, glancing back at the Burrow, where the lights were bright in the windows, shining through the dark yard.  
“No, Romania is home for you,” Arthur shook his head. “I've always known that. This is your childhood home, but adulthood brings something entirely different altogether, doesn't it?”  
“Mum wouldn't like the thought of that.”  
“Your mother doesn't like the thought of many things, but she copes with them anyway.”  
  
Charlie nodded and turned his attention back to the woodland.  
  
“What's keeping you here?”  
“You lot,” Charlie answered immediately. “If Romania is my home then it was always missing something, and that was you lot. I wanted you all in one place and I always wanted to have it all... but I couldn't.”  
“Nobody can have it all,” his father pointed out wisely.  
  
Choosing to remain silent, Charlie found his thoughts turning to Severus. He wondered if his little ploy of annoying the man into accepting the transfer to St. Mungo's had worked.  
  
 _You'll find out when you visit next and he's not there, I guess._  
  
He couldn't help a sly little grin. Before he remembered with whom he stood, he slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his packet of cigarettes, grabbing the lighter with his other hand. He was halfway to lighting up before his father coughed, looking at the stick planted firmly between his son's lips.  
  
“Bollocks,” Charlie muttered, screwing up his nose with embarrassment.  
“Big day, coming out and admitting you smoke all in one.”  
  
Charlie nodded, and didn't bother to comment that his sexuality had been the topic of discussion between his parents -they told each other everything, and always had.  
  
“We knew, you know.”  
“I didn't hide it very well,” Charlie laughed, puffing out his first blow of blue smoke. “I was hoping you'd figure it out by yourselves...”  
“It was so obvious we knew why you hadn't said anything, who would have missed it?”  
“Most of your other children,” he snorted.  
“Well, they idolise you. They just accept you as normal. The things you do are the things they don't care about, because they all love you so much.”  
  
“You tell me to go home,” Charlie sucked on the stick bitterly. “And yet you've got to know when you say stuff like that, Dad, it makes it impossible to leave?”  
“It doesn't,” the answer was flat. “You'll go back to Romania, Charlie, I have no doubt about that. You're not Bill, who can have his fun and return to normal life. Your fun is your normal life, the way you live, and it's not healthy to deny that.”  
“But it's not fun,” Charlie protested. “It's just the only thing that makes me happy.”  
  
He immediately felt bad for what he had said, for suggesting that spending time with his own flesh and blood didn't bring him joy. He looked down at his feet, utterly ashamed of himself.  
  
“The war will make everybody question their values, and what they want,” his father advised in a low tone.  
“I want what I've always wanted,” Charlie said immediately.  
“Which is what?”  
“Dragons, and a boyfriend.”  
“Are the two compatible?”  
  
 _In a tiny reserve with the same old men, where you've fucked all the gay ones three times over already, no._  
  
There was a warm squeeze to his shoulder, and then Charlie was alone again.  
  
He let the cigarette burn down in his fingers until it burned him. The sting reminded him of Romania, of home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; mentioned character deaths; angst, abuse, despair.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." Everyone needs a way out.

_She doesn't have a chance..._  
  
Severus fought back his wry grin as he strained his ears for the whispered conversation outside the door to his private room. Two of the MediWitches had convened there for their usual mid-morning gossip. Severus wondered why they chose his room; if they thought that because he was mute, he was also immediately deaf.  
  
Either way, Severus wished he could speak to tell the brunette with a backside like a pair of saddlebags that she had no chance -the Healer she was lusting after had been whispering with another male Healer just the week before, and no matter how much she tarted herself up, it wasn't going to work.  
  
He heard hurried footsteps and sighed, mourning the loss of his entertainment. It was all he had, which made him depressed. Severus had read through every book he'd been gifted. The newspaper was scoured from cover to cover on its delivery at seven in the morning. Looking out of the window had grown dull and all there was, Severus found, was simply to pay attention to the lives and dramas of those who were caring for him.  
  
He loathed being in their care, having to let them poke and prod him, to ask him about his bodily functions and control his every ablution. The emphasis at Hogwarts had been on his missing voice, but at St. Mungo's other problems had become evident. His body was weaker than he had first thought, and even the simplest trip to the toilet had his muscles quaking and flesh sweating. He had fallen twice before they'd forced him into a wheelchair. He loathed being wheeled everywhere more than he loathed lying in the uncomfortable hospital bed.  
  
As far as he could tell, their methods of treatment were not working, but even if they were, Severus wondered how they were monitoring him when they refused to permit him to try and speak. If he even looked like he was opening his mouth they grew strict, making him blush and scowl, a thirty-eight-year-old man reduced to nothing by their medicine.  
  
Feeling the icy cold of depression beginning to trickle into his veins, Severus mentally shook himself and focussed his eyes on the doorway. He needed to retain control, and giving himself over to the natural lowness threatening to engulf him would strip him of the last of his dignity. He didn't need therapy, nor did he want a reason to give Charlie anything more to worry over.  
  
 _And since when have you cared about whether a Weasley worried about you or not?_  
  
Severus looked to his right, where an obscenely big slab of his favourite Honeydukes chocolate rested on the bedside table, and felt guilty. The redhead still visited, Severus was still none-the-wiser as to why, and it was beginning to drive him mad.  
  
Insanity would fare him no better than depression.  
  
To keep his mind busy, Severus flung his hand down and groped for the join between mattress and bed frame. Pressing in he gripped the tiny little book he had stuffed there the night before and pulled at it, with another quick glance at the door.  
  
He had no idea why he was writing as he was, but he supposed the Healers would tell him it was cathartic. He was writing down everything which had happened, from his induction into the Death Eaters to the point of his 'death' in the shack earlier that month, and he was being honest. It was not the watered down version he had provided to Potter at the moment of death; it was the truth, as painful and horrific as it was in places.  
  
Reaching for his pencil, Severus prepared to settle in for a long morning of writing, hoping his hand would keep up with the pace before his mind was sated.  
  


* * *

  
  
Charlie boiled the kettle for what felt like the millionth time that morning, and looked out of the back window. The garden of the Burrow was beautiful in the summer sunshine, coloured by lush grass and bright wild flowers. When they were younger, he recalled how they would pick them for their mum, and take her back handfuls of pretty flowers for which she never had enough vases, but it always kept the younger ones happy and, if Charlie was honest, he liked them more than he let on.  
  
There was something about the colour and their wildness, the way that they grew wherever they fancied, and their smell was as strong as they pleased. They blew in the wind and survived. They soaked up sun and grew stronger for it.  
  
 _And you've been listening to the WWN's story hour with Mum far too fucking much!_  
  
Shaking his head to get rid of the overly-romantic notions, Charlie turned his attention to the teapot and shoved in some teabags. Arranging the cups, he did a quick mental count of who was actually in the house with him, and realised he had one extra, a cup for Fred.  
  
 _Strong tea, two sugars, lots of milk._  
  
Charlie didn't suppose that he would ever forget that order, but he would have to remember to stop making it. It made his mother cry when she saw a forgotten cup of tea, which had never had an owner in the first place.  
  
 _And you were never here, so why the fuck do you remember how he wanted his tea?_  
  
Scowling at himself, Charlie poured the boiling water into the pot and reached for a teaspoon. Absent-mindedly he stirred, wondering if his only purpose in life was now to make tea and, possibly, if that had only ever been his one true calling. Back in Romania, when it came to night shifts in the veterinary enclosure, he had been the one sent to the kitchen. On a Sunday morning, cuddled up in bed with Tomás, he had always been the one to stumble from the sheets and put the kettle on.  
  
 _Strong tea, no sugar, barely any milk._  
  
His boyfriend's tea preference floated through his mind and Charlie was surprised that it hurt to remember, more than it hurt to remember Fred's. As though the lonely little memory had unlocked something inside, Charlie found himself gripping the edges of the counter, staring down at the mugs before he tightly squeezed his eyes shut. Something deep inside was aching, and he wasn't used to it.  
  
 _This is loneliness._  
  
“Charlie?”  
  
He jumped and opened his eyes, guilty at being caught in a moment of rare outward emotion. A warm hand landed between his shoulder blades.  
  
“Alright?” Ron asked nervously, regarding him with worried blue eyes.  
“Yeah just a... just some stuff catching up with me,” Charlie pulled himself together and continued making the tea, but the thought of Tomás' thick brown hair and tanned limbs were suddenly all that he could think of -all he wanted to think about.  
“Want some help?” Ron asked, burying his hands in his pockets. “Or do you... want to talk about stuff?”  
  
Charlie looked up, surprised at the younger man's offer. He didn't know how to reply to him.  
  
“Or I could go get Bill... I know you prefer him, so...”  
  
Feeling ten times more guilty, Charlie licked his lips and carefully poured the tea as he thought over the words to say. He hated that Ron automatically assumed that he wouldn't want his help, that he would prefer another brother over him.  
  
“Here,” Charlie handed him a few mugs of tea. “Help me get these out, and then we'll go outside and have a talk, yeah?”  
  
Ron didn't hide his surprise well, but then Charlie knew he never had. He sent the younger wizard a genuine smile and brushed past him, carrying tea into the living room for his parents, Harry and Ginny.  
  
“You make a lovely house elf,” Ginny teased with a sly grin, prodding Charlie's thigh with her bare foot as it dangled over the arm of the chair she lounged in.  
“I look even better in a little black dress and an apron, Muggle-style,” Charlie answered with a wry grin and a dirty wink.  
  
His sister snorted and broke into giggles, before flashing him an appreciative smile for the little slice of laughter before she buried her nose in the paper again.  
  
“Thank you, dear,” his mother patted his arm. “You're so good to me. Can I convince you to make lunch?”  
“If you pay me,” Charlie reverted to childhood and smiled at her.  
“In the usual cakes?”  
“Done,” Charlie sighed inwardly.  
  
 _I'm not your bloody slave!_  
  
Trudging back to the kitchen, Charlie found the final two mugs of tea missing and the back door wide open, letting in an inviting breeze. Grabbing his sunglasses from the sideboard, he headed out into the yard and looked around for Ron. He saw him under one of the larger trees at the entrance to the orchard, leaning back against the bark, waiting for him.  
  
“Nice day,” Charlie commented as he kicked out of his scruffy old trainers and dropped down onto his back in the grass. Swinging his ankles up, he peeled off his socks and wormed his toes into the shade-cool grass.  
“Look at you, nature boy,” Ron regarded him with a small smile and then looked away, sipping at his tea.  
“Completely at one and all that bollocks,” Charlie laughed, wrapping his fingers around his own mug even though he didn't lift it to drink from.  
  
“What were you thinking about in the kitchen?” Ron cut to the chase more quickly than Charlie had expected. “You looked like you were in pain.”  
“I was,” Charlie stared up at the leafy canopy above them.  
“Were you thinking about Fred?” there was a sad eagerness in Ron's tone; it was obvious that he needed to talk.  
“Well, sort of,” Charlie lied. “Why... do you need to... anything you want to talk about?”  
“I don't know how I'm s'posed to feel,” Ron mumbled. “I'm sad and I'm... Hermione and me are... together now and that makes me really happy.”  
“Have you had sex yet?” Charlie asked with a grin.  
  
Ron's embarrassed silence told him what he needed to know.  
  
“Promise me you're being careful,” Charlie glanced over at him.  
“Spells and... she makes me use these Muggle things, they're horrible,” Ron made an unhappy face. “You can't feel much.”  
“Condoms are crap,” Charlie said unhelpfully. “But you need to respect her wishes.”  
“Well what about her respecting mine not to want to use them?” Ron asked hotly.  
  
It was a fair enough question, Charlie thought, and deep down he was proud of his little brother for standing up for himself.  
  
“Just talk about it,” Charlie said finally. “Just tell her what it's like. She might understand, if she doesn't, you look for other methods. Don't stress about it Ron... Merlin, you're in those first few weeks where the sex is great and you can't get enough of one another... just enjoy it.”  
“I am,” Ron said defiantly.  
“Well quit whinging about the condoms then,” Charlie advised with a wink.  
  
Moodily, Ron looked away and took a deep gulp of tea. “And I miss Fred.”  
  
Charlie sighed and reached up with his fingers. He gave the only part of Ron that he could reach -which was his ankle- a tight, supportive squeeze. “We all miss him. Promise.”  
  
“Who were you thinking about?” Ron asked.  
“My boyfriend,” Charlie answered. “Or... well. He was. Probably not any more. I walked out on him in the midst of... passion, shall we say, to come and take part in the battle. I haven't heard from him, so...”  
“Boyfriend?” Ron asked warily.  
“Gay,” Charlie pointed to himself.  
“Alright then.”  
  
They both sat in silence, each looking at their chosen distraction.  
  
“I miss him,” Charlie admitted, not blinking as he continued to look up into the tree. “I didn't really get that until just now. I miss being with him, hugging him...”  
“Are you in love?” Ron asked quietly.  
“I'm in love with everybody,” Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “I love you all the same and I've never found anybody yet who's got more out of me.”  
“Mum always said your heart was too big,” Ron whispered.  
“She's right,” Charlie swallowed, trying to fight out the croak in his voice. “Because I love everyone the same and I wonder if they feel so strongly back... it can be quite...”  
“Lonely,” Ron finished for him.  
  
Silence descended again, and Charlie closed his eyes, annoyed with himself.  
  
“Sorry, that was probably too much information.”  
“Don't you want to go back to Romania?” Ron mused. “If you miss him that much? Why don't you go back to him?”  
“I can't leave you all here like this,” Charlie dismissed. “I've left you alone for far too long.”  
“Come back more often,” Ron suggested. “Don't stay away for so long... it would be months before we saw you, but it doesn't have to be that way, does it?”  
  
“I want to go back,” Charlie admitted. “Go back, see my fledglings, my flock, if you will... see him, apologise... see if we can pick up where we left off...”  
“Go, Charlie,” Ron urged him. “You'll be better off there.”  
  
Sorely tempted to take his little brother's advice, Charlie held his breath. He could be there by the evening if he left at that point, paying extra for more expensive, faster portkeys. Everything he wanted, he could have back.  
  
He was just preparing to sit up, to coordinate the muscles needed to get him moving to take him back to what he wanted, when Bill's shout rang out across the yard.  
  
“Char -firecall for you, something about Snape. Sounds pretty urgent!”  
  
That got him moving, Charlie found. He was on his feet and flying through the grass without so much as a word to Ron.  
  
“Ow, bollocks, wank and fuck!” he hissed, hobbling as he trod on a sharp stone in his bare feet as he pounded across the dusty yard to the house. “Fucking hell.”  
“Mr Weasley?”  
  
Charlie came to a halt in front of the fireplace.  
  
“Forgive me for the intrusion, but you were the only person we could think of to call on... do you think you could attend the hospital immediately for us?”  
“What's the matter?” Charlie knelt down on one knee so that he was on the same level as the Healer.  
“Our security was breached in the night,” the Healer looked incredibly embarrassed. “And someone has managed to reach Snape without our knowledge... he's in a bad way and none of us can get through to him. I know you aren't close but you visit and... we're desperate.”  
  
Charlie could see that just from the man's eyes. “I'll be there as soon as I can get shoes on,” he promised.  
  
The flames reverted to their usual orange colour and Charlie stared at them, scared to rise.  
  
“What's going on?” Ron asked from the doorway, where he stood with two cups of tea and Charlie's shoes dangling from his fingers.  
“Give me those,” Charlie snatched them off him. “I've got to get to the hospital, something's wrong with Snape.”  
“So?” Ron stared at him.  
“So?” Charlie gaped back. “I think he was attacked.”  
“It's not your problem if he has been,” Ron pointed out.  
“You don't get it, do you?” Charlie snapped, ramming his feet into his shoes. “He has nobody.”  
“That doesn't mean he needs you!”  
  
Charlie stared and wondered how the boy he had been so proud of beneath the tree could be so cold.  
  
“You need to grow up and look past what he did to you at school,” Charlie ruled. “Get a spine.”  
  
He would regret his harsh words, he knew, but as he thrust a handful of Floo Powder into the flames, he couldn't think any more on them. Ron was only infuriating him.  
  
***  
“So they took advantage of the fact that he couldn't scream for help?” Charlie felt sick, looking at the bruised face of the thin man.  
“It seems so. We just don't know how it happened... we can only think that it might have been another patient, hence the ease of their travel through the hospital. We have wards set around every doorway in the building, you know that because you have to pass through them. We just don't understand, Mr Weasley.”  
“Charlie,” he ruled, rubbing his hand over the stubble on his chin. “So is he asleep or-?”  
“We sedated him, he was in such a state,” the MediWitch shook her head sadly. “As you can imagine. He's so proud... to be attacked like that...”  
“What are the extent of the injuries?” Charlie heard himself ask. “Did they just physically attack?”  
“We've picked up on lingering curse energy -probably Cruciatus...”  
“And... he's alright?” Charlie looked nervously. “They haven't abused him in any other ways, have they?”  
  
The Healer stared at him.  
  
“Are you suggesting that another patient in this hospital might sexually abuse him?”  
“Think about it,” Charlie stared back. “That's the ultimate way to strip him of his dignity, he can't scream, there's no way of being stopped...”  
  
He stopped himself, then, as he had made himself feel sick. “Do the Aurors know?”  
“They've already been here. If you step outside, we'll perform another examination to see whether your theory is right...”  
  
Charlie nodded and left the room, closing the door hard behind him. He leant against it, staring at the generically white ceiling of the vaulted corridor.  
  
A horrific noise like a wounded animal suddenly rent the air.  
  
The shout came from within the room and Charlie jumped before he turned around and barged back through the door. Where Severus had been peacefully asleep before, he was upright with livid eyes at that point. He clutched a sheet determinedly to his naked body and glared at the Healer, wobbling on his feet.  
  
“Severus, they're just doing their job,” Charlie said automatically, rushing to his side, expecting to be fought off. But to his surprise, Severus allowed Charlie to touch him and guide him back to the bed. “They just wanted to check the extent of what that scum did to you.”  
  
Severus stared at him with hollow eyes. Charlie felt the sad release of breath from the man's mouth brush over his own face.  
  
“Just calm down?” Charlie pleaded, and in a completely maternal move that he didn't understand, he brushed the man's hair away from his sweaty brow.  
“We saw enough. There's nothing to suggest sexual abuse,” the Healer said, his voice strained. “Though we found more bruising in those areas which has to have been put there with intent.”  
  
Anger consumed him, and Charlie only stopped himself from punching the wall by holding on to Severus.  
  
“Give us a moment alone?” he asked finally, looking up at the hospital staff with pleading eyes.  
“Of course,” the Healer led the way out of the room; Charlie watched the door until it was firmly shut. He then locked it wordlessly, not caring if that set off the wards set in the wood.  
  
“Severus,” he sighed, turning to the man. What he found made his chest constrict.  
  
The thin, bruised face was screwed up so tightly that it must have been painful. Lips were twisted, clearly trying to hold back emotion which they both knew he should release. Without thinking, Charlie moved to rest on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around Severus' shaking frame.  
  
“Come on,” Charlie whispered. “Let it out.”  
  
Another shudder made the wizard in his arms convulse and Charlie held on tighter, nuzzling gently against his greasy hair. He began to stroke with one of his hands, though he couldn't have said exactly what he was stroking, or if Severus liked the touch.  
  
“You hurt,” Charlie whispered. “Right?”  
  
There was a stiff nod against his face.  
  
“And you want to scream it out, but you can't.”  
  
Another nod.  
  
“And you just want it all to stop.”  
  
A more fervent nod. Charlie dropped his hand to find Severus' and laced their fingers together; they felt even thinner and colder than they had in the first days after the battle, when Charlie had held a bedside vigil for the man without even knowing why.  
  
“Squeeze it out if you can't shout it,” Charlie whispered. “You won't hurt me.”  
  
The pressure was immediate and painful. He was glad they were alone, because the gape of pain on his own face was probably comical. He didn't voice it, however, but let Severus mangle his fingers, simply because it was all the man had by way of showing his discontent and pain.  
  
Something wet dripped down onto Charlie's bare forearm and his breath caught in his throat.  
  
He felt a fool for having forgotten tears as an outlet of pain.  
  
“Let it out,” he murmured into dark hair. “It's just me here.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Aching and ashamed, Severus laid in his bed and stared disinterestedly out of the window. There was sunshine beyond the panes, but it only hurt his eyes. He didn't know why he kept looking.   
  
He had spent most of the past twenty-four hours staring out of the window and nothing had changed except for the transition from day into night, and back again. The voices outside his door meant nothing because had lost the inclination to listen.  
  
There was only one person who could visit that he wanted to see, and even then Severus found himself nearly dying of the shame of the way he had crumbled in front of the redhead. He had given himself up and shown his absolute vulnerability to another human being, and after the first time he had sworn he would never do it again. That it was another redhead that had broken him was all the more galling.  
  
“Charlie, have you got a minute?”  
  
Severus' ears pricked up and he closed his eyes, should they see he was awake and close the door to his room for privacy's sake. He had been aware of Potter lurking in the corridor for a few hours, clearly waiting for something -and now Severus knew exactly what: Charlie.  
  
“Yeah, 'course,” Charlie's warm answer excited Severus more than it should have. “Have you got any leads on who attacked him?”  
“They don't need leads,” Harry said bitterly. “They've already had a few anonymous letters claiming it, they're investigating them all. People are proud of what's happened to him.”  
  
There was a low growl and the sound of a palm slamming into a wall.  
  
“Look, it's not safe for him here now,” Harry said, lowering his voice. “They can give him Auror protection but they're needed elsewhere... other people are in danger too and I can't help thinking that if he were just to disappear for a while, this would all blow over. It will.”  
  
Charlie must have looked sceptical, because Harry launched into further explanation.  
  
“He's a target here, and he's mute. He can't ask for help and his magic is weak so he can't give it to himself. He needs to go somewhere where nobody knows him, where he can get rest and a bit of of peace and quiet.”  
“What about his treatment?” Charlie asked.  
“Could be done long distance, they've already discussed it with the Healers. I know they're meant to be impartial but they're fearing for the safety of the other patients while he's here.”  
  
There was a moment of silence before Charlie spoke again. “So why are you telling me all this, and not him?”  
“You know why,” Harry laughed. “Who else do I know with lodgings out of the country, in pretty peaceful surroundings with the ability to look after him?”  
“Me?” Charlie snorted. “I can barely look after myself.”  
“Please, Charlie.”  
  
Severus heard the desperation in Potter's voice and wanted to moan. He didn't need the boy's pity, nor did he need Charlie's, but he was on the receiving end of it regardless and it made him feel appalling. He kept his eyes closed as footsteps entered the room.  
  
“Severus, you awake?” Charlie's voice was nervous.  
  
He opened his eyes and looked at them both.  
  
“I know you heard all of that,” Charlie narrowed his eyes. “Don't pretend.”  
  
Severus looked moodily away.  
  
“So... how about it then?” Charlie chewed into his lower lip. “Do you think you could put up with me in Romania for a few months? Come and live with me, and I'll take care of you?”  
  
Severus simply stared back, knowing he had no choice, but wanting to bellow at his discontent at the idea of _anybody_ taking care of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." A steep learning curve...

“So... you're mainly bringing books then?” Charlie looked disparagingly at the full boxes on the floor.  
  
Severus simply stared at him.  
  
“Okay, okay, books are fine,” Charlie held his hands up in peace. “Anything you want me to bring from upstairs?”  
  
Charlie winced, realising that highlighting the man's invalidity probably wasn't the way to gain his friendship. Since the battle they had existed in an almost friendly existence of scribbled notes and mouthed words. But since the agreement had been settled that Severus would accompany him back to Romania, everything had cooled. Severus had barely bothered to write him one note in the three days after they had made the decision.  
  
 _Or, the government and you made the decision for him..._  
  
A wave of Severus' hand jerked Charlie out of his thoughts and he looked up guiltily. He watched as Severus picked up a notepad on the side and wrote something on it before shoving it over.  
  
 _I need my cloak, it's in the wardrobe upstairs._  
  
“Sure,” Charlie grinned, heading out into the hallway, trying to breath through his mouth so that the smell of the house, which had been locked up for months, wouldn't pollute his lungs.  
  
He didn't want to be rude, but Severus' house was depressing. The wallpaper was drab and old, and the carpets were threadbare. It clearly hadn't been decorated in years.  
  
 _Why would he come back here when he had better rooms at the school?_  
  
Charlie ducked into what he could see as the only bedroom in the house. The bed was stripped bare and the curtains were pulled, casting dim light about the room. He crossed the floorboards, which were as naked as the bed and opened the wardrobe door. A thick cloak hung there and he guessed it was the one Severus wanted -it was still summer and the man probably wouldn't need it, but then his health wasn't good, and so Charlie didn't protest.  
  
Closing the door with a snap as he folded the cloak over his arm, he caught sight of the dresser.  
  
 _Man's gotta need pants, surely?_  
  
Decided, Charlie yanked open the top draw and didn't pay attention to the underwear that he actually grabbed, only thinking of what else Severus might need. On the reserve they mainly wore muggle clothes when they weren't in protective gear, and he had only ever seen Severus in his teaching robes, black with a ridiculous amount of buttons. Tramping back down the stairs, well aware that he was making a racket, Charlie wondered what else he should suggest.  
  
“Here,” he rounded the corner of the sitting room door. “And I grabbed you some spare underwear too, it rains a lot in the mountains, don't want to get caught short with all your pants damp-”  
  
Charlie cut off at the look of fury which had taken up in Severus' expression. He was positively glaring.  
  
“What?” Charlie felt colour rise in his face. “I just thought that you might... want some of your personal stuff. I'm sorry.”  
  
There was only a few seconds before Severus had stamped across the room and snatched the items out of Charlie's hands. There was a raspy little cough and then Charlie heard it.  
  
“No!”  
  
“Did you just speak?” Charlie gaped. “Like an actual word? Did you just say no, Severus?”  
  
There was an irritable jerk of the man's head as he turned away, dumping the cloak and underwear into his trunk. There was a heavy slam of the and then Severus turned.  
  
“Are you ready?” Charlie licked his lips, deciding to smooth over the moment.  
  
There was a careless shrug of Severus' thin shoulders, ruined only by the way his face crumpled with pain at the quick action.  
  


* * *

  
  
 _How many of them are there?!_  
  
Severus thought that if he saw one more new redheaded face he might scream. He didn't know exactly what Charlie had bought with him at short notice when he'd received word about the battle, but it seemed to be taking him forever to pack up his belongings.  
  
“Severus, would you like another cup of tea?”  
  
It was odd for him to be under the roof of a woman who was a complete mother hen. His own mother had been so far from that description it was depressing. Molly Weasley, on the other hand, was a woman who clearly cared for her children, and just about anybody who happened to pass beneath her roof.  
  
Dragging his manners from the back end of nowhere, Severus managed to politely decline with a shake of his head and sending her a tight lipped smile. His throat had been aching all day long, and the pain was beginning to drive him to distraction.  
  
“I must say,” Molly said from the kettle, where she boiled another pot. “We're very sad to be losing Charlie again so soon. We'd hoped he might stay.”  
  
 _She blames me. He's only going back because he has a reason -me._  
  
Severus didn't have the energy to muster an apologetic look for the woman. She stared at him softly, her brown eyes assessing without threat. They were remarkably like Charlie's, he noticed.  
  
 _And you don't mind when Charlie looks at you..._  
  
Angry with himself, Severus looked away and pretended to take an interest in the kitchen. He had never quite seen anything like it, that warm, molten centre of a family home he didn't understand. His own house must have looked represented a morbid hole to Charlie, though he had had the manners not to comment on it.  
  
“Well, it'll be good for him... he's not himself here. There's something which changes about him when he's out in the open air, risking his life day in, day out.”  
“Who're you talking to, mum?”  
  
Severus looked up and saw a tall form duck through the kitchen door. The youngest Weasley male seemed have shot up another foot since the night of the battle -his hair had grown a little shaggier, and his face seemed to have angled into manhood. His eyes, at that present point, however, were narrowed in Severus' direction, and the resentment was clear.  
  
“Oh, right,” Ron folded his long arms over his chest. “You're here. So Charlie's going this afternoon, then?”  
“Yes,” Molly answered reservedly.  
“Bloody joke,” Ron muttered beneath his breath.  
“Ron!” She snapped angrily. “Don't start. You've made your views perfectly clear, but I've brought you up better than to announce them in front of other people.”  
“Well you agree with me,” Ron swiped through the air angrily with his hand. “You don't think that Charlie should be going with him either!”  
  
“Severus, excuse him,” Molly placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “Ron's dealing with some issues these days and his anger is just a result of that.”  
“Mum!” Ron hissed. “You promised you wouldn't say-”  
“Oh, be quiet,” she breathed, and Severus saw for the first time that the pleasantness of her face, and the composed stature of her body, was a lie. Molly Weasley deflated in front of him like a popped balloon and her eyes shuttered away with grief. When they reopened, they were damp.  
  
“If you don't have anything nice to say, Ron, then stick to saying nothing at all,” she ruled, and her youngest son's face reddened with embarrassment.  
“Whatever,” he muttered, and stomped out of the room.  
“I'm sorry, Severus,” Molly apologised immediately. “Ron is... well. Sometimes I forget he's just eighteen, after everything he's done. Still moody and still thinks he knows everything. And even when there are guests, it's hard to stop this house being a home. I'm sorry he was rude about your situation.”  
  
He was glad that he couldn't answer, because Severus wouldn't have known what to say anyway. He settled for what he hoped was an understanding nod, which Molly seemed to accept because she smiled at him.  
  
“Charlie seems to be taking a long time,” she mused. “I wonder where he's got to. You're going to have to excuse the state of his cabin, Severus. It's better than what he started out in. I had absolute harpies when I saw it for the first time. Mould on the walls and the carpet was damp...” she visibly shuddered. “He's gone up in the world now, though, has his own cabin which has a few more rooms and the walls are respectable.”  
  
She smiled at him and Severus waited.  
  
“I don't know why he's doing this,” she admitted finally. “I don't know why he's so taken with you, Severus. I think he feels a sense of duty, which I know must infuriate you. But I know my son, and he's like an unstoppable force when he gets like this... he wants to be helpful, so...”  
“Why do I get the feeling you're talking about me?” Charlie poked his head in from the hallway and looked between them.  
“About you, not to you,” Molly sighed at him. “Nosy boy.”  
“Always,” Charlie grinned, stepping fully into the kitchen and heaving a massive rucksack down onto the floor. Severus stared at it, wondering what there could possibly be stuffed within the canvas.  
“You're wearing that to travel?” Molly looked disapprovingly at her son's ripped jeans and baggy t-shirt. “Won't you be cold?”  
“It's summer, mum,” Charlie rolled his eyes and reached up to card his fingers through his hair. “I'll be fine.”  
“What time is your portkey?”  
“In about an hour, we'll need to use your Floo to get to the station, is that alright?”  
“I can't believe you still ask me to use the Floo connection in your own home, Charlie,” she shook her head.  
  
 _He doesn't feel like this is his home._  
  
How Severus knew that, he wasn't sure. It seemed obvious, however, as Charlie buried his hands in his pockets and started to slouch. There was an eagerness about his limbs which he was clearly trying hard to fight, but Severus, as a spy and analyst, could see it. Molly thankfully seemed to miss it, for which he was glad, because he didn't think he could stand any more of her motherliness than he had already suffered.  
  
“Then I suppose I should gather the masses and we should say goodbye.”  
“It's not goodbye, mum, don't be daft,” Charlie rolled her eyes. “I'll be back sooner than you want me.”  
“I don't want you to go,” she said stonily, but let out a long suffering sigh. “I'll be back in a minute.”  
  
She disappeared and Severus heard an equally suffering sigh from Charlie's lips. When he looked up, the younger wizard was rubbing blearily at his eyes as if tired.  
  
“Sorry about all this,” Charlie grimaced, catching his eye. “Can't be fun to sit and watch. But I'll just say my goodbyes and then we'll head off. You look tired.”  
  
Something tender flitted across his freckled face, which in turn made something squirm in Severus' belly. He tried to ignore it, but the feeling grew stronger as Charlie continued to stare at him, his expression remaining warm but unreadable.  
  
“I hope you're not going to hate it,” Charlie said softly. “Because you can't come back. They've lifted the sanction on you because Harry's put his foot down and Kingsley agrees it's for your safety but...”  
  
 _This is your only choice._  
  
Severus felt he had received a pretty hard graft for his thirty-eight years. The news that he would have to go and live in the middle of a mountainous reserve with fire breathing beasts and men he didn't know for company hadn't particularly bothered him. He was used to being lumbered with the short straw, and more than anything, he was used to wallowing in pity about his misfortune.  
  
He shrugged in Charlie's direction and looked pointedly out of the back window. Whatever had caused Charlie to offer to take him back to Romania, Severus didn't want to knock. As ridiculous as it made him feel, to have one person who cared for his welfare meant something. He wasn't entirely sure what, but he knew it was _something._  
  
“I dunno, buggering off again,” a voice cut through his thoughts, and Severus looked up to see a dark hole in the side of a redhead's face. George was paler and thinner than Severus had ever seen him, but he wasn't foolish enough to question why. It was obvious with one look at the boy's face.  
  
George grabbed Charlie in a bear hug and messed up his hair.  
  
“Come visit, mountain air will do you good,” Charlie instructed.  
“And the Romanian plum brandy you send for Christmas?” George asked hopefully.  
“That'll do you some good too,” Charlie smirked. “I'll send you some by post, alright? Little pick-me-up...”  
“You're the best big brother in the world.” George gushed with mock sincerity, then jabbed Charlie in the gut and turned to leave. “Snape,” he inclined his head. “Feel better, eh?”  
  
Surprised by the geniality in George's tone, Severus was too surprised to answer properly. His throat made a hideous scratching sound as he hastened to reply, forgetting that he couldn't. He looked down at his hands. George was gone when he finally glanced up again.  
  
The rest of the family seemed to crowd into the room then, and Severus busied himself picking at a stray thread on his cuff to avoid watching. There were several longing groans and unhappy mutters. Charlie seemed to bat them all away with ease, but as an outsider, and as the reason for his departure, Severus was left feeling incredibly guilty.  
  
“Where is he? Did I miss him?”  
  
His eyes flew to the fireplace, from which Bill had just tumbled, sending soot all over the floor from the hem of his long cloak.  
  
“Nope,” Charlie heaved his rucksack off the floor. “Only just.”  
“C'mere.”  
  
Severus had been content to ignore all of the other embraces which had been shared in the poky kitchen, but his eyes were glued to Charlie's stocky figure as he wrapped his arms around his one and only older brother. They embraced in an odd, full-bodied way, in which chests, stomachs, thighs and toes met. The squeeze seemed indecent, and the expression on Charlie's face -the only face he could see out of the two- was confusingly adoring.  
  
“Miss you,” Bill said unhappily as Charlie pulled away. “Been great to have you home, Char.”  
“I'll be back before you know I've been gone,” Charlie said confidently. “Severus, are you ready?”  
  
He nodded and got to his feet, moving for his trunk.   
  
_Nobody will give you such a loving goodbye. Inappropriate or otherwise._  
  
***  
“Are you alright?” Charlie asked worriedly.  
  
The abrupt answer was that no, Severus was _not_ alright. If he'd had the energy, he was sure he would have bypassed his physical incapacity and told the redhead so, too. Fortunately for Charlie, the room was still spinning and his throat was burning more painfully than ever. Severus sat leant back on a hard seat as they waited for their connecting Portkey on to Romania, having made it as far as Austria on the first.  
  
“Maybe we should have stopped over somewhere,” Charlie mused.  
  
Severus jerked his head in disapproval. He just wanted to get where he was going, and sleep for a week. Charlie Weasley didn't seem like the type of man who would object to such a plan, either. Severus acknowledged that, despite his dislike of being cared for, he could have been stuck with far worse a protector than the curly haired wizard.  
  
Charlie was breezy, and always had a smile, whether he was saying good morning or requesting an item from along the dinner table. He radiated warmth, which seemed to drench the coolness Severus had spent many years perfecting.  
  
 _That and you can see into his mind when he sleeps._  
  
Severus had only caught flashes thus far, and he wondered how sharing the house with the wizard was going to work. He had no idea why his legilimenistic tendencies burst forth where Charlie was concerned, and only when he was asleep, but knew that he didn't possess the mental energy to restrain them.  
  
 _One of these days you might end up seeing something which isn't as pleasant._  
  
Severus highly doubted that Charlie had any terrifying skeletons in his wardrobe; he didn't seem the type. He was open and honest -when around him Severus got the feeling that if Charlie did something, he'd mention it.  
  
“That's us,” Charlie announced. “Ready?”  
  
Severus rolled his eyes and pushed himself upright, choosing to ignore the warm hand which settled between his shoulder blades to steady him.  
  


* * *

  
  
He couldn't help it. It was like a balloon filling with air in his chest, pushing rising excitement through his veins as they approached the gates of the reserve. It smelt like home, the cool air tasted like home -and everything he saw was home. Charlie wondered if he should feel guilty for what he had left behind, but at that moment, he simply couldn't.  
  
The gates were like a muggle neon flashing sign, drawing him in to the attraction, wanting to fling himself head first back into what already felt like his old life, and would soon be his all over again.  
  
“Well, this is us,” he looked to his right for Severus' benefit. “Home sweet, rainy home.”  
  
He wiped drizzle from his brow as he spoke and couldn't help his happy grin. Severus didn't return it, but his dark eyes were sweeping about, taking in his surroundings, and Charlie could tell that he was interested.  
  
“My cabin is in the trees, back from the main dwellings,” he pointed to a thick of trees at the foot of the nearest hill. “I won't tell you who I had to sleep with to get that privilege.”  
  
Severus arched one eyebrow in question.  
  
“Well, luckily, the housing officer is a pretty good looking bloke,” Charlie snorted, shifting the pack on his back. “And open to bribes.”  
  
He shot Severus a wink and the smile he received back surprised him. He took it with good grace and reached out one hand for the gate. Curling his fingers around the damp metal, he waited for the gate to accept his magical signature. It sparkled blue momentarily before fading to normal, and grille slid inwards.  
  
“They're expecting us and everything, so there shouldn't be a problem with your magic,” Charlie waved him through first and followed Severus. The loud clang of the gate made him grin, thinking of every time he had willed the damn thing to be quiet at three in morning when he was trying to remain respectful of his sleeping colleagues.  
  
They walked up the dirt path, avoiding muddy puddles. Charlie could smell the amount of rain the reserve had received in the air, where moisture clung to his skin and refreshed him after an unusually dry British summer. They had made good progress when Charlie heard it, and his instincts took over.  
  
“Severus, I've got to do something,” he dropped his bag with a thud. “Give me two seconds, alright?”  
“Where are you going?” Severus mouthed to him, almost anxiously.  
  
Charlie ignored the extra beat of his heart at the man's apparent distress at being left alone.  
  
“I need to go and see somebody very special,” Charlie held up his forefinger. “One minute. I might even get to introduce you?”  
  
Severus gave him a look, but nodded, and Charlie turned, streaking across the damp grass towards his favourite enclosure. His family accused him of liking the power and the danger of working with dragons, and they were partly right. However, none of them had been to the reserve in the past four years, and none of them had seen what was, to all intents and purposes, his baby. Charlie pushed through the gate and waited for the shriek.  
  
When it came, it was loud and made his eardrums ache, but there was no threat. Thumping towards him was a dragon which was fully grown, yet visitors rarely believed him, with bright amber eyes and though Charlie realised he was probably imagining it, a happy expression.  
  
“Hey,” he crouched down, with a stupid grin of his own, and reached out his hand. The dragon's scales were cool, a result of his failure to reach adulthood physically, and Charlie happily rubbed his head. As usual the dragon pandered to him, nuzzling into his touch.  
  
There was a thump from behind him and Charlie looked over his shoulder to see Severus standing with a horrified expression at the boundary gate.  
  
“Someone you should meet,” Charlie rose to his feet, knees crunching on the way up. “A very important man in my life, you have to understand.”  
“What?” Severus mouthed as he glared, arms folded over his chest.  
  
Charlie shivered, and didn't know why. Severus' black hair was blowing about his face, giving him an oddly powerful stance.  
  
“C'mere,” Charlie held his hands out to the creature on the floor. The dragon couldn't exactly jump, but he made half the effort, and Charlie lifted him up easily. “They've not been feeding you enough,” he muttered beneath his breath. “They never take proper care of you when I'm gone.”  
  
If Severus had been shocked before, his eyes by that point looked as though they might fall out of his head.   
  
“This is Bob,” Charlie said sheepishly.  
  
The eyebrow rose again and inexplicably, irritation flickered in Charlie's gut.  
  
“He's mine... well, all of ours. But I care for him most because the others don't think he's worth the time. Doesn't breathe fire, no point, apparently.”  
“What's wrong with him?” Severus mouthed.  
“Shh, you'll give him a complex,” Charlie hissed playfully, feeling the dragon's tail flick around his forearm. “He just didn't grow. All the others from the litter did, but he's always been tiny... and he can't breathe fire -only steam.”  
  
To prove his point, Bob made a snorting noise and sent out tiny tendrils of steam into the air.  
  
“And he doesn't have the heat of the others, so I can touch him,” Charlie shifted the beast in his arms to a more comfortable position. “He's pretty attached to me. When I said I was going away he got really upset.”  
  
Severus paused for a moment and then dug around in his pocket. Charlie waited whilst the man wrote a message and held the pad up for him to read.  
  
 _You ran out on your boyfriend, but still had time to say goodbye to the dragon?_  
  
“The dragon loves me unconditionally,” Charlie sulked. “Which was more than I could say for the boyfriend.”  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Crazy, insane, dragon cuddling madman._  
  
Severus stared, entranced, at Charlie's back as the wizard made them both tea.  
  
“Just have this and then we can both have a nap. I've got a few more days before I'm back on the rotas, which is good. Need to catch up on kip before I go out there and start dancing the flames again.”  
  
Severus sent him a quizzical look.  
  
“Sorry, keeper talk for carrying out the monthly physical examinations,” Charlie set a mug down in front of him. “We have to do it to make sure they're all in good condition... our primary job is to look after them, after all. But they hate it.”  
  
Severus reached for his pad.  
  
 _I thought your job was to keep them from terrorising the townsfolk?_  
  
“That too,” Charlie grinned, not missing a beat as he headed for his bag, out of which he pulled a plastic box. “Mum sent me off with cake, as usual.”  
  
He settled down and opened the lid, causing the smell of freshly baked sponge wafted over the pair of them.  
  
“Help yourself,” Charlie pushed the box towards Severus and began munching on his own overly-large chunk of cake. “I'm going to have to be more organised with food. You need proper sustenance so I can't just eat cold beans out of the tin any more.”  
  
Severus wrote another message. _What makes you think that I wouldn't appreciate that?_  
  
“Because you're Severus Snape. I bet you don't drink milk out of the bottle or dip your licked spoon back in the jam,” Charlie shrugged. “I do, by the way.”  
  
 _Marvellous,_ Severus jotted down, but managed to accompany his sarcasm with a small smile, which Charlie seemed to appreciate.  
“I'll make up the second bed in a minute,” Charlie brushed off his fingers, the cake having vanished. “So you've got your own space and you can get away from me when you need to... we all need space, right?”  
  
 _How is this going to work?_ Severus enquired via paper, trying to ignore the few crumbs clinging to Charlie's plump lips.. _I mean, at some point you will want to bring your friends in, or... people who mean more than that._  
  
“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm sure we'll find a way of respecting each other's privacy, right?”  
  
Severus gave him a curt nod, and picked up his tea.  
  
***  
Wishing he could moan about how much pain his body was in, Severus staggered along the small hallway of Charlie's cabin, heading for the bathroom. His joints were stiff from sleeping for so long, and he could see that it was black beyond the windows. The rooms were chilly and he wanted to be quick, to get back to his bed. He pushed through the bathroom door and blinked at the candles which burnt there.  
  
Panic rose in his body as the sight met him, and his feet froze to the floor. The bath was full of Charlie's body, which rested in thick bubbles, the tops of his knees, his belly and some of his hips peeking out through gaps in the foam. On his damp flesh Severus could see colourful etchings and flattened body hair. One hand dangled over the rim of the bath and in his fingers Charlie held a steadily burning roll up. His eyes were closed.  
  
 _Get out. Now._  
  
Severus wanted to obey his mind's instructions, but his feet refused to move. He felt a fool, standing there in the doorway gaping at a man twelve years his junior who had been good enough to put him up.  
  
 _Even if he is a madman who hugs dragons and looks like a god in the bath._  
  
He didn't understand his physical attraction to the man in front of him. He hadn't looked twice at another human being in years -not out of choice, and not even those that the Dark Lord had tried to foist on him for good service. Severus hadn't been interested. He hadn't touched another human being intimately since he was a teenager, and even then it had meant very little, simply trying to ease his heartache.  
  
Standing there, however, all he wanted to do was reach out and caress the well-padded softness of Charlie's belly. His mouth was completely dry.  
  
“Severus?”  
  
Jolting with the shock of being caught, Severus turned on his heel and fled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst. (lightly described past) Weasleycest   
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." Blooming attraction...

Severus knew that he should be ashamed of himself, and yet he didn't fight to return to consciousness. He remained sprawled in the armchair, his eyes tightly shut. The images dancing on his closed eyelids were not his own, and he knew that he should never have been party to them.  
  
 _A fountain of water spouted out of Charlie's mouth, and his lips curled into a grin as he looked into Bill's face. “The kids can't see us out here.”  
“You'd be surprised, Fred and George have surprisingly good eyesight,” Bill looked nervously over his shoulder; his anxiety was belied by the fact that his thin arms wrapped around Charlie's waist beneath the water level.  
  
Charlie arched into him, bringing together their chests, bellies and groins, standing on tip toes so that his shorter height would be matched to Bill's lanky frame.  
  
“Sink down a bit,” he whispered seductively into his brother's neck.  
  
Bill did as instructed, soaking his pony tail in the water as he bent his knees. Charlie snatched his lips up in a kiss. A longing moan came from one of them and Charlie's hand slipped to cup his brother's left buttock, squeezing through the thin material of his swimming trunks.  
  
A terrified shriek came from the bank and the two brothers wrenched apart, both turning to look. Fred and George were trying to hold Ron beneath the water, and the seven-year-old was thrashing desperately.  
  
“No!” Bill hollered, and waded off through the pond, leaving Charlie rooted in place._  
  
Severus guiltily opened his eyes and looked around the dragon keeper's poky living room. Dark clouds had gathered beyond the windows, threatening yet more rain, and a chill had crept beneath the front door. The lazy Sunday afternoon that Charlie had suggested had seemed like a good idea, but Severus had only fallen asleep and wasted half of the day. Charlie, too, had napped and, Severus swallowed on a dry throat, dreamed so vividly of something so completely forbidden he couldn't believe what he had seen.  
  
For all the implications, however, the tight embrace between the two brothers on their departure from England suddenly made more sense to Severus than it should have.  
  
 _Incest? Really? Who would have thought it... the wholesome, loving but poor family... with a dark secret._  
  
Sitting up in his seat, Severus rubbed at his eye. They had been in Romania for a week and Charlie had returned to work on the Wednesday, buzzing with enthusiasm and rolling through the door after Severus had given up and gone to bed, covered in dirt and soot with half the forest in his hair. Over breakfast he'd happily told of how he'd had a fight with a Chinese Fireball and casually showed off a bad burn along his forearm.  
  
 _The man has a death wish._  
  
Severus looked over at Charlie, who had stretched out in his sleep along the entire length of his settee. His socked feet dangled over one arm whilst his head was propped on the other. One leg was bent up and turned into the back cushions, stretching the denim of his jeans over Charlie's wide hips. His t-shirt had ridden up, revealing the soft fur of his belly.  
  
It was hard to get used to living with somebody who was so open and unguarded. Severus had received the shock of his life one morning in the week when Charlie had ambled into the kitchen in just his boxers, the stiff remnants of his morning wood still detectable beneath the thin fabric.   
  
_And your throat went dry then, too._  
  
He had no idea what was going on his mind. In the seven days his attraction had grown. There was nothing he could do to stop his eyes stalking the ripple of the muscles in Charlie's arms, or from appreciating the way his red curls caught the firelight. The second-eldest Weasley child was simply compelling.  
  
Knowing he was staring, Severus struggled to standing and winced at the pain in his throat. As the rest of his body had relaxed, glad to be away from the main foray of the pre-war difficulties back in England, his injuries had caught up with him. He assumed that he had been so intent on fighting that he had kept the shock and the pain at bay to some extent.  
  
That it kept on strengthening filled him with a fear that he had not admitted to the man that he lived with.  
  
Ambling along to the kitchen, Severus knew that he had landed well. Whatever Molly Weasley thought of her son's lodgings, he could find nothing to complain about -it was clean, warm when the fire was lit, and the rooms were comfortable if plainly decorated. Splashes of Charlie were everywhere, from the array of Weasley photographs on the mantelpiece, to a very old-looking collection of stuffed dragon toys on the chest of drawers in the man's bedroom. Severus had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't meant to have seen those particular knick-knacks.   
  
_But then he doesn't seem your usual type of man... not too protective of his masculinity._  
  
Severus oddly liked Charlie's willingness to embrace femininity. The crockery he used was clearly second hand, probably his mother's, and the floral frieze didn't seem to bother the redhead one bit. The smell from the bathroom when he washed was rather sweet, almost fluffy; it never failed to crack a wry smile on Severus' lips. There was no doubt that Charlie was anything other than a man. His muscles had already toned in the few days they had been there, his sweat stank of earth and his boots had to be kept on the doorstep for everyone's health after working all day.  
  
 _But he's not afraid to sit in a bubble bath._  
  
“Or drink wine,” Severus added aloud, catching sight of the empty bottle they had shared the evening before sitting by the bin.  
  
Technically he wasn't permitted to drink, but Charlie had allowed him one small glass and Severus' estimation of the wizard had rocketed. He didn't want to be nannied -he wanted to be left alone to the best of his health's ability. Charlie gave him that freedom.  
  
Putting the kettle on to boil, Severus looked out over the reserve. The cabin was slightly raised into the hills and the steps leading to it tired him. He had only left a few times since their arrival, once to accompany Charlie to the spring to collect water, and the second to venture out for wood.  
  
“Evening,” Charlie's sleep-coarse voice rang out from behind him. “Slept longer than I wanted.”  
  
Severus looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement.  
  
“Did you sleep well?” Charlie dropped down with a heavy thud at the tiny kitchen table; it was so small that when they sat opposite one another, their knees knocked.  
  
Turning away from the counter, Severus nodded. He picked up one of the pads that Charlie had started to leave everywhere in his home, and wrote a message on it.  
  
 _'Not bad. My throat is aching again. What were you dreaming about?'_  
  
He shoved it over the wood to Charlie and turned back to continue making the tea, wondering what he should suggest for dinner. As a potioneer, Severus had never been bad at throwing ingredients together to make dinner. In fact, from the look on Charlie's face, he was _good_ at cooking. Without anything else to do, when his fatigue allowed, he had taken over the role as head chef in their odd set-up.  
  
“You always ask me that,” Charlie looked up at him as Severus picked up two mugs of tea. “Did you put your honey and lemon in that?”  
  
Severus made a face and gave Charlie only an irritable jerk of his head in response. With a tut, Charlie got to his feet and snatched the mug away and pulled open one of the very few cupboards nailed to the wall. Severus didn't watch as the redhead spooned honey into the tea and stirred it.  
  
“You know this makes it taste better, seeing as you can't have milk,” Charlie set the mug back down with a smug smile on his face. “I'm not getting a bollocking from the healers because you won't look after yourself.”  
  
 _'Has anybody ever told you that you are the spit of your mother?'_ Severus scrawled acidly on his pad and shoved it over the table.  
“My mother's a lovely woman,” Charlie glared playfully.  
  
 _'Then why don't you live with her?'_ Severus pointed out.  
  
“Because I'm not stupid,” Charlie laughed, summoning a packet of biscuits and ripping into them. “Anyway, my dream...” An odd look passed over his freckled face. “I was just dreaming about somebody that I love very much, is all.”  
  
Severus nearly dropped his mug at hearing the proclamation. Charlie couldn't have known that Severus had seen his dream -that he had witnessed the intimate touches between brothers which should neither have been so entrancing nor so aesthetically pleasing.  
  
Unable to help himself, Severus enquired in writing, _'Who?'_  
  
Something in Charlie's eyes flickered, but Severus stared expectantly.  
  
“Well, we couldn't really be together. It was complicated,” he shrugged. “A lot of people would have got hurt, including us... so... we put a stop to it. I have to see him all the time as we're friends, so it's hard. But... y'know... shit happens.”  
  
The lie was seamless. Severus would have believed it had he not seen what he had in Charlie's own dreams. The idea of the man sitting in front of him suffering from forbidden love with his brother both turned his stomach and tugged at his heartstrings, until the nausea won over at the thought of touching anybody he counted as family in an intimate manner.  
  
 _Which we don't think about at all._  
  
Severus shuddered, dangerously close to unleashing memories he had carefully locked away a very long time ago. He stared at Charlie and concentrated on how his jaw moved as he chewed on a mouthful of biscuit. The bone was strong and powerful; Severus knew just to what extent having seen the boy-version kiss so passionately.  
  
“What are your plans for tonight?” Charlie asked finally, cleansing his mouth with a wash of tea.  
  
Severus managed to rise from his stupor to sarcastically roll his eyes. His neck hurt too much to shrug his shoulders.  
  
“I was thinking...” Charlie leant back in his chair and tapped his fingertips on the table. “Do you want to maybe come out with me tonight? Some of the guys are going down to the local pub. Beer's good, you don't have to talk because we'll do it for you. I'm just really aware you've barely left this place in a week.”  
  
 _'I'll leave when I want to leave.'_ Severus knew he sounded obstinate.  
  
Charlie smiled and shook his head, looking over at the cooker. “Well what do you want for dinner then? You've cooked every night since you recovered from the travelling... I didn't bring you here to be my house slave.”  
  
 _'Believe me, there are plenty in England who think that is what I should be used for, and worse.'_  
  
“Bollocks,” Charlie said flatly, rising to his feet and smoothing his palms over his thighs. “We'll make dinner together and then you'll come out for one drink with me, and I'll bring you home when you've had enough.”  
  
Severus opened his mouth to tell Charlie that he didn't need a chaperone, but he closed it.   
  
_Your mother always told you not to cut off your nose to spite your face..._  
  
Sighing, he gave a conceding nod and proceeded to watch Charlie rummaging through his cupboards.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Are you cold?”  
  
Charlie knew he was irritating the older man as they walked down to the main path of the reserve. The rain from the afternoon had halted, but there was thick moisture in the air. It clung to his face and each breath that he sucked in was damp. He worried about how Severus' chest might react to it.  
  
As it was, only a flick of dark eyes answered him, and Charlie knew not to ask again. They had only spent a week in each other's space, but he already knew the warning signs when it came to Severus Snape. He knew when to stop pushing.  
  
What scared Charlie, however, was that one day he might not be able to stop, and would ruin what had become a comfortable, if slightly odd, living arrangement. He scratched his nose and tilted his head back to the sky.  
  
“Wow, Severus, look at that,” he reached out and grabbed Severus' upper arm, dragging him to an abrupt halt. They had stopped in a clearing and above them, the trees parted to give way to an inky black sky, studded with pinpricks of light. “Gods, I've missed this so much.”  
  
Charlie couldn't help it -he sank down onto his backside in the grass and looked up. He put his arms out behind him to support his body and simply stared. As it usually did, the overwhelming feeling of inferiority washed over him, humbling him into the earth which he sat upon. It was a good few minutes, all spent in awed silence, before Severus gave a scratchy cough and drew Charlie's attention away from the sky.  
  
“Look,” Charlie nodded insistently. “It's amazing, you've got to see this for the first time. Trust me, you won't be able to live without it again. Beats Astronomy lessons on the top of the tower.”  
  
Severus shook his head.  
  
“Don't be boring,” Charlie growled.  
  
He watched as the man fished a smaller notepad and pencil out of the pocket of his robes and wrote something. The paper landed with a thud in Charlie's lap and he squinted at the words there.  
  
 _'My neck hurts too much to look up.'_  
  
Face flushing with his inconsideration, Charlie grimaced in apology. He stared around at the grass, trying to find a way to make up for his blunder. “Here,” he said finally, patting the grass next to him. “Lie down, and I'll support your neck for you on the way down and the way up again. You can't miss this.”  
  
Charlie expected the immediate denial of his suggestion -and he knew that less sardonic men than Severus Snape would have sneered at his suggestion. The grass was damp and slightly muddy. It came with great surprise when Severus tucked his cloak around himself and sat primly down on the grass next to Charlie. Reaching out one hand, Charlie gently held the back of the man's neck, well aware of its fragility (now that he had remembered the entire ailment). He helped Severus lower himself onto the grass and then quickly withdrew his hand. To make the man feel more comfortable, he threw himself back on the grass and looked upward.  
  
“Have you ever seen anything like that?” he asked, somewhat proudly; he adored the reserve and the beauty that it offered.  
  
A scratchy 'no', the only word that Severus seemed to be able to summon the ability to say, whispered from his left. Charlie smiled broadly and tucked his hands beneath his head, causing his t-shirt to ride up his belly.  
  
“I remember the first night I saw this,” he mused. “It was so... amazing. I knew I would never be able to give it up. Everyone says I'm so _kind_ and generous... but I'm a selfish fucker, Severus, and don't ever think any different of me.”  
  
He turned his head to the side to see the wizard's reaction. Severus, however, kept staring straight ahead, apparently entranced by the stars.  
  
“I used you,” Charlie said tentatively. “You were my road out of England and I took it. That was selfish. Though I want to help you, and I'm really glad you like it here... or you seem to like it, you've never actually said... I was glad. Because you've brought me home, and away from...” he trailed off, ashamed to continue. “Away from the misery,” he concluded quietly.  
  
When no answer came forth, Charlie blushed even though he was not under scrutiny.  
  
“Sorry, I ramble when I'm ashamed of myself.”  
  
Still Severus said nothing and Charlie let his mouth close, turning his attention back up to the stars.  
  
“Charlie...”  
  
Not since his days at Hogwarts had Charlie heard his own name slide from Severus' lips, and even then it had only been in sharp rebuke to be followed by the suffix.   
  
“Severus?” he asked, looking to the side again and found Severus staring at him.  
  
The man's pale skin looked almost ethereal in the dark of the night. His robes didn't cover his neck completely, and his hair had fallen away from his face into the grass. Severus' damaged throat was illuminated like a ghost, pale and near-beautiful, simply waiting to be touched. Charlie's fingers twitched involuntarily.  
  
“I am thankful,” Severus ground out, before he broke into coughs from the exertion and struggled to sitting. Charlie helped him, unable to tear his hands away from the man's shoulders as they trembled beneath his touch. The hacks sounded painful, ripping through the sensitive throat muscles; Charlie winced to hear such obvious agony.  
  
“Don't talk,” Charlie said softly. “Not for me. Don't hurt yourself to me. I know you're thankful. I know that because you wouldn't make me a cup of tea every bloody morning if you weren't. Nor would you hang up the wet towels I leave on the floor when I can't be arsed to pick them up again. I know, Severus.”  
  
There was a curt nod and Severus made to stand. Charlie helped him, keeping a light but not condescending touch to his bony elbow.  
  
“Do you still want to go to the pub?” Charlie asked warily, shivering slightly in the cool air of the forest. “I get it if not. We'll just go back home and have a drink there.”  
  
Severus answered him by taking a few steps towards the main path, turning his back on the solitude of the cabin. Charlie couldn't help the smile which blossomed on his face as he set off after the older wizard.  
  
***  
“And then I said to her,” the wizard paused in his telling of his latest conquest, “Make me a cup of tea in the morning, eh? And she agreed.”  
  
Charlie rolled his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray closest to him. “You're a pig, Andy.”  
“And you're a poof, so what do you know about girls?”  
“I've dated girls,” Charlie shrugged. “And they're human beings. You can't treat them like slaves.”  
“She was begging for it.”  
  
The others around the table were shaking their heads disapprovingly -and the few women in the group were looking livid.  
  
“I'd cut your bloody balls off and feed you them,” one of them announced, throwing him a filthy look.  
  
Charlie thought he heard a snort of laughter from his side, and looked at Severus. His dark eyes were twinkling slightly, and his fingers were happily curled around a glass of locally brewed wine. He looked more relaxed than Charlie had seen him since the battle.  
  
“But Charlie can't really talk,” a cool voice wafted over the group, and Charlie froze, recognising it. “He just gets an owl from home and disappears in the middle of sex, isn't that right, Char?”  
“Tom, leave off,” one of the girls sighed.  
“Can't you even look at me?”  
  
Charlie jumped as warm fingers carded through his curls from behind. Severus stiffened next to him, a look of distaste forming his expression. Charlie twisted in his seat and ducked his head away.  
  
He looked into the face of his last lover and wasn't surprised by the resentment he saw there.  
  
“Hey Tom,” he said, cursing the hoarseness of his voice. “How are you?”  
“Pissed off,” the Romanian answered bluntly, his accent making the words harsher than they should have been. “You've been back a week and you haven't contacted me.”  
“Look, can we not let your love life ruin tonight?” one of the others pleaded. “I've had to put up with him whinging about it all week anyway... give me a night off, why don't you?”  
“Well I'm not leaving,” Tomás said self-importantly.  
“We'll leave,” Charlie said automatically. “We need to get back.”  
“Who's your fuck buddy?” Tomás hissed rudely in Charlie's ear as he stood up.  
  
Supremely glad that Severus hadn't heard the question, Charlie muttered, “He's not my fuck buddy, he's a friend. Back off.”  
“Charlie Weasley fucks them all in the end,” Tomás smirked. “And then he dumps them when he's done.”  
  
Hurt by the accusation, Charlie stepped out from his seat and headed for the door without waiting to see whether Severus was following him. He was out in the cold night before anybody could call him back. Angrily, he kicked at the low curb and made a face at it. The door to the pub swung open again, bringing with it the heavy accents of the locals, and Severus' cloak dusting the pavement came into view.  
  
“I'm sorry,” Charlie said automatically. “He always was a bit of an idiot.”  
  
They started off along the road, heading for the path which would lead them back to the reserve. Severus said nothing, but his body posture was stiff and unkind.  
  
“I think I'm going to lose some friends,” Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets. “It always happens that way. There's this culture with our generation... Ron's too. Our friends are supposed to be more important than our families... and I don't compromise my family for anybody, not even a lover.”  
  
Severus' head turned sharply to look at him; his brow was furrowed. He reached for the notepad in his pocket and began to awkwardly write as they walked.  
  
 _'Surely a lover or life partner should be the top of your priorities if you want a future with them?'_  
  
Charlie had his answer ready; it was the answer that he always gave his mother when she asked why he was still alone. “I haven't found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with yet. Bill found her young. Ron found her when he was fucking eleven. But not me. Is that weird?”  
  
Severus shook his head.  
  
“But... from what I know, you found yours quite young, am I right?” Charlie hedged.   
  
Severus rewarded him with a curt nod but nothing more.  
  
“It just doesn't happen for all of us,” Charlie said determinedly, staring straight ahead along the path. “It'll happen someday... and if it doesn't... then that's fine by me too.”  
  
Charlie was suddenly glad that Severus could not talk -he didn't think he could have taken hearing that he was a liar from any other voice than that in his own head.  
  


* * *

  
  
Severus hissed as he eased out of his bed. His neck, shoulders and throat were killing him, throbbing painfully even when he laid still. Walking was agony, but it was just the same as remaining prostrate in a bed which felt as though it was made of needles. The cabin was dark as he shuffled through it, trying to keep quiet. Charlie had been subdued all evening long, and had gone to bed long after Severus had retreated to his duvet, trying to get to sleep.  
  
Making it to the bathroom, Severus felt for the cabinet containing Charlie's healing potions. His arm collided with the toothbrush holder and sent it clattering to the floor, where it smashed on the tiles.  
  
“Fuck,” Severus hissed, stepping backwards to protect his bare feet from the shards of pottery which had flung far and wide in the crash.  
“Whozzat?”  
  
Charlie's heavy feet could be heard blundering along the poky hallway and seconds later he appeared in the bathroom doorway, brandishing his wand. “I'll fucking rip your balls off!”  
  
Severus threw his hands up and the few candles on the walls suddenly flickered to life. Charlie blinked once at him and then lowered his wand.  
  
“What happened?” he asked croakily, reaching up to rub at his chest, where Severus guessed that his heart was hammering hard beneath his ribs.  
  
Pointing to the shattered toothbrush holder, Severus murmured his apologies with a dull blush rising on his cheekbones.  
  
“Don't worry,” Charlie yawned. He flicked his wand and the pieces of the pot rose into the air and began fixing themselves back together on the sink. “Easily sorted. What are you doing up?”  
  
Severus gestured to his neck and made a face.  
  
“Oh, you need pain relief?” Charlie's sleepy eyes widened. “Okay. Here.”  
  
He stepped over and reached past Severus, the bare muscles of his arm brushing against his shoulder as he opened the medicine cabinet and selected a bottle. “Have a few swigs of that. Specially brewed on the reserve, it'll sort you out and then put you under for good measure. Three mouthfuls'll do you.”  
  
Severus sniffed the liquid before putting the bottleneck to his lips. Tipping it back he swigged at the thick draught, feeling it coat his throat muscles as it slid down. The effect was immediate as the inflamed flesh was soothed at the source.  
  
“Good shit, huh?” Charlie grinned. “They need all hands on deck... we can't be off sick when our dragons might eat one another. Here, this might help...”  
  
Severus nearly fell over with shock as warm hands descended upon his shoulders and began to gently work at the flesh there. Thumbs rubbed in firm circles up into the nape of his neck, beneath his hair.  
  
It took every ounce of control that he had not to moan longingly -for more touch, for more pain relief, and for more attention from the man standing behind him.  
  
“Better?” Charlie stopped after a few minutes. “Or worse?”  
“Better,” Severus mouthed, experimentally rolling his head in a circle -the tension had almost completely dissipated from the combination of potion and Charlie's finger work. It felt beautiful.  
“Thanks,” Severus mouthed awkwardly, making for the door. He pointed down the hallway, indicating that he was heading back to bed.  
“Night,” Charlie yawned. “Now I'm up... I think I'm going to go and sit with the new hatchlings for a bit. They were looking peaky yesterday. You'll be alright?”  
  
Severus could have sneered at the wizard's concern, yet all he felt was warm that somebody had taken the time to ask. He nodded again and tried to smile at Charlie.  
  
“Get some rest,” the redhead replied, reaching to turn the shower on. “I'll see you this afternoon, probably. We'll go good shopping in the village and I'll show you the sights.”  
  
It wasn't an invitation; it was happening. Severus didn't bother to answer but nodded again, and walked along the hallway to the room Charlie had designated for his use. It was cold as he slipped beneath the duvet, and Severus shivered.  
  
 _I don't think he'd object, somehow, to being your bed-warmer._  
  
Severus closed his eyes and tried to get rid of the image of Charlie Weasley being his own personal hot water bottle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst; past Weasleycest, naked!river!Charlie.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." Severus learns what it is to speak again, and then wishes he hadn't bothered...

“What're you doing up?” Charlie mumbled sleepily, eyes jumping up to see Severus slouching through the door to the kitchen.  
  
A shrug was his answer as Severus moved for the kettle.  
  
“Must be something in the air, I couldn't sleep either...” Charlie let out a yawn as he reached for his tea. “Though I don't know why, I was fighting with that bloody Horntail all day yesterday and I'm so tired... and now I've woken up at half past four on my day off.”  
  
There was a grunt, which might well have been apologetic, but Severus didn't show it in any other way. Charlie didn't mind the silence; he had grown used to having no answer to his questions, or having to search deeper for them than he would with another person.  
  
In truth, he knew the reason why he wasn't asleep. It was rare that he found himself as cut up as he currently was, but it was stealing his sleep away and frustrating him. Since the comments by Tomás about his promiscuity the week before, he had grown steadily angrier. Then there was the fact that his dreams -the dreams that he tried to lock away and tried even harder not to think about in his waking hours- were becoming repetitive. Bill's face seemed to swim in his vision whenever his concentration slipped, whenever he longed for a touch or a soft kiss.  
  
What annoyed him the most was that Charlie was not a man to long for soft touches or kisses at all; he was a man who would go out and find them, enjoy them, and remember them fondly. He would not moon over their absence, such as he presently was.  
  
He swallowed the lump which had risen in his throat and watched Severus shuffling around as he made his tea. When the wizard finally sat down, a notepad was summoned and Severus began to write.  
  
 _'I woke up because I remembered something. Didn't want to be alone in the dark after that.'_  
  
Charlie was becoming used to the oddly personal moments that Severus allowed him to view. They were few and far in between, but he appreciated them all the same when they reared their heads. He gave a nod to show that he understood.  
  
“Couldn't you have just put the light on? Read a bit?” Charlie thought of the massive stack of books he had borrowed from all of the workers on the reserve, and the time he had spent explaining why he wanted them. Everyone had been willing to donate, which had really touched him, and had done a great deal more to Severus from the expression on his face as Charlie had presented them.  
  
 _'Needed to get out of that room.'_  
  
“Is it going to be a problem?” Charlie glanced along the hallway through the archway to the kitchen. “Because I'll happily switch with you, if it is.”  
  
Severus' dark eyes widened and he shook his head, frowning. He scribbled something quickly and then shoved the pad over.  
  
 _'Don't be ridiculous. You're too generous. It was just a nightmare.'_  
  
“Was it something from the war?” Charlie asked cautiously.  
  
Severus gave a curt nod.  
  
“Something from when you were acting as a spy, or before then... something with Harry's Mum?”  
  
Why he was asking, he had no idea. The insights into the private man before him had become usual, but the information that Charlie gleaned had a limit -a limit that he was well aware of and chose on many occasions not to push. His mother had always said that he had Bill's tact but Fred and George's unfortunate curiosity. He was trying his best to walk the fine line with Severus Snape. That morning, he failed.  
  
The reaction, however, wasn't as negative as he was expecting. After staring at him for a good while, Severus reached for the pad back and began to write. Charlie was expecting one, maybe two lines, but he waited whilst Severus sat and wrote out an entire paragraph in his spidery script.  
  
 _'Yes, I was thinking about her. I think about her a lot, as you might imagine I do. Do you know how much I loathe that everybody knows my secrets, Charlie? That you knew enough to be able to ask me if I was thinking of her? …_  
  
“I'm sorry,” Charlie kept his eyes down. “I didn't think.”  
  
 _... It was just a replay of the night that I learnt that she'd been killed. I will never forget that as long as I live.'_  
  
“I don't think anybody would.”  
  
Setting down the notepad as quietly as he could, Charlie regretted instigating such a deep conversation at a ridiculously early hour. Severus snatched the pad back and began to write again. Charlie drank a mouthful of tea and tried not to think about what might be coming next.  
  
“Fuck this,” Severus' voice scratched out. “Sick of writing.”  
“You shouldn't talk,” Charlie said worriedly.  
  
A filthy glare closed his jaw and cut off his words.  
  
“I feel like I owe you my honesty,” Severus said. “And some openness.”  
“I really don't care though,” Charlie insisted. “I only want to know what you want to tell me, Severus. I'm not here to pry or try and give you therapy... I'm just the man you live with.”  
“But when I am living your secrets, it feels unfair.”  
  
Charlie blinked, and Severus suddenly blushed, as if he had given something away.  
  
“What secrets of mine do you know?”  
“Look... you're just more open than I am,” Severus began to sip at his tea, taking away the ability for speech. Charlie watched him closely, and garnered the distinct impression that he wasn't telling the truth.  
  
 _Having four younger brothers had to be good for something._  
  
“What do you know?” he cajoled with a smile, resting his chin on his hand.  
“Please, leave it.” Severus' eyes shuttered away and Charlie was left hanging.  
“Must have been talking in my sleep again,” he said finally, and swigged down the rest of his own tea, which was nearing cold and past its best.  
  
Severus didn't answer as Charlie rose from his seat and stretched his arms up above his head.  
  
“I want to go back to bed, but that'd be really lazy,” he yawned through the words, making them mostly indistinguishable from his groan.  
“It wouldn't,” Severus advised.  
“I might go for a hike. It's summer, the sun's coming up. Fresh air would be good for me.”  
“Could I come with you?”  
  
Surprised by the man's request, Charlie immediately began to search for a way to tell him that he wasn't physically up to the woodland trails that he planned to take. Severus seemed to read his mind and looked away, clearly embarrassed.  
  
“Yeah,” Charlie went against his better judgement. “Yeah, you can come with me. Just dress warm, in layers, good boots, you know the like. I'll make us a pack with some food and water in it. We'll be back by ten, if you don't conk out on me.”  
  
There was a tight smile on Severus' lips as he brushed past Charlie to head into the hallway. Charlie was left staring at his back, desperately wanting to know which of his secrets the man had learnt -and whether it was one that was likely to see him in trouble.  
  
“Worry about it when it happens,” he muttered to himself, turning on his heel and heading back to his bedroom to dress.  
  
***  
“Stop talking,” Charlie said.  
  
Severus threw him a filthy glare, but at least closed his mouth.  
  
“I'm not your Healer.” Charlie threw his pack down on the forest floor and rolled his shoulders, which were aching badly. “But I'm not going to let you set yourself back, Severus. We don't need to talk up here... just relax.”  
“Do you have any idea how frustrating this?”  
  
Charlie watched with surprise as Severus' thin hands were thrown up in the air, clenching into fists for the descent. One boot kicked angrily at the floor.  
  
“Severus, I get that you're angry. Anyone would be angry... but you can't set yourself back for the sake of a few conversations every now and then. We get on fine with the writing and me guessing from your facial expressions... you're sort of like a book to me now... but I guess that only hurts you more, right?”  
  
He knew from the way that the wizard's dark eyes glanced away that he had struck gold.  
  
“Look, you're ruining the peaceful air of my walk,” Charlie said cheekily. “Shut up and drink some of this. How can someone so mute give me such a headache, eh?”  
  
He thought he might have imagined it out of sheer hope, but Charlie thought he saw the twitch of a smile in Severus' cheek.  
  
“Water,” he said insistently, pushing the canister into Severus' hand. “Hydrate. Dunno 'bout you but I'm sweating like a pig here.”  
  
He felt silent, listening to the sound of Severus' uneven gulps against the background of forest noise. A bird was tweeting overhead, and nearby the sound of the river trickled by, in it's slowest stretch before heading for the waterfall further downstream. They hadn't climbed particularly far, but he already felt tired, and Severus was pale. Charlie didn't miss the tremor in his hand as it held his drink.  
  
“I think I'm done in,” he lied, knowing full well that he could make it to the top of the mountain and still make it to the pub that evening if he really wanted to. “Should have just gone back to bed.”  
“Liar,” Severus coughed, wiping his lips with his fingers.  
“No, I'm really tired,” Charlie yawned. “And sweaty and I want a shower.”  
“There's a river, you could go and jump in that,” Severus arched one eyebrow.  
“I thought I told you to shut up talking?” Charlie huffed.  
  
That time, Severus definitely did smile, and Charlie turned away to hide his own pleased grin.  
  
“Do you come up here often?”  
“I'm not answering you until you promise me to be quiet,” Charlie bargained.  
“You aren't my mother, Weasley.”  
“Thank God for that.”  
  
They stared at one another and then, one after the other, they started to laugh.  
  
“I think you were right about the river though,” Charlie turned on his heel and stared through the trees. “I'm hot, it's cool, and pretty safe at this point.”  
“Are you serious?” Severus wheezed.  
“Always,” Charlie grinned.  
  
It wasn't as if it would be a first for him -he had swum in the section of the river plenty of times, on his own and with his friends from the reserve. He'd had somewhat of a naked tryst in that river with a few boyfriends -the water held several secrets, washed away downstream to nothing but the rocks at the bottom of the waterfall.  
  
Stripping his t-shirt off over his head, Charlie began to fumble with his belt. He began to walk, his mind high above in the leaves, not listening to whether or not Severus was following him.  
  


* * *

  
  
 _He's insane._  
  
Severus had seen Charlie topless many times throughout his stay at the dragon reserve. In fact, it was rare to see him wearing anything at all within the cabin on his broad, muscled upper half. Why he looked so different, so completely compelling, in the middle of the forest, Severus didn't know. He watched until the redhead had disappeared from his sight amongst the trees and then followed, keeping his tread light. The water bottle dangled from his fingers, and more than once he nearly dropped it as he concentrated on not walking head first into trees.  
  
Sweat trickled down his spine and glued his own top to his back; it was already hot, the product of a summer far more successful than the one they had left behind in England. The forest around them smelt woody and perfect, the scents of herbs and wildflowers coiling together in the heat, perfuming the air. The scents blossomed on his tongue, for once distracting him from the damage to his vocal chords.  
  
Appreciating the odd bark of a tree as he passed, Severus was suddenly out of the trees, and water trickled nearby -and naked before him, facing the river, stood Charlie, poised to jump in. His face flaring to life with colour, Severus didn't know where to look, but found his eyes glued to the man's buttocks, which were lightly furred and ever-so-slightly soft, suggesting strength, but not obsession. Mouth dry, Severus tried to look at the water.  
  
“Coming in?” Charlie asked over his shoulder.  
  
As far as he was aware, Severus hadn't made any noise to alert Charlie to his presence, and yet somehow he had known.  
  
“I'm not that impressive, you'd do better with the scenery.”  
  
Charlie's comment was masked by the splash as he jumped into the water, the wave of which rose up, causing some light spray to land on Severus' face to cool it. He held his breath as he waited for Charlie to surface, to split the water with his surely flattened curls and dripping face. When the sight came, it was more entrancing than Severus could ever have imagined. Spitting out a long fountain of water, as Severus had seen him do in a dream, Charlie shook his head like a dog and threw himself onto his back. The explicit view Severus garnered of his genitals boiled his blood.  
  
Charlie studied him from the water, allowing his hips to sink slightly so that his modesty was protected, for all the good it did. Severus only realised when he could still see the ample outline of the man's penis just how crystal clear the liquid was.  
  
“Coming in?” Charlie asked again with a teasing grin. “It's nice and cool, but not too cold.”  
“No, I'll... sit...” Severus waved at the ground, and shuffled over to the nearest tree and sat down with his back to it.  
  
Charlie shrugged and swam further out into the middle of the water, where he disappeared beneath again, holding his nose. Severus held his breath again, fearing that Charlie might not come back up. Why that thought distressed him so much, he didn't know, but there was immense relief when he came back into view.  
  
“Don't look so worried.” Charlie's words were a laugh as they reached him. “I've done this loads of times. See that rope swing over there? I can jump off that from about ten feet up into this thing and still live.”  
  
He looked somewhat sheepish at his statement and Severus stared at him.  
  
“Okay, maybe I broke my arm once, but... I still did it. Nobody else was brave enough.”  
“Stupid enough,” Severus corrected.  
  
A coughing fit seized him then, the dryness which had taken up in his mouth and throat at seeing Charlie fully naked began to burn, and he lifted the water bottle to his lips again. Only a few swigs remained and they left him unsatisfied.  
  
“Is there a spring anywhere near?”  
“I thought we decided you wouldn't speak?”  
“Weasley, I need a drink.”  
“The nearest spring is about five miles that way -or a spring that you'd trust drinking from, anyway,” he nodded in an easterly direction. “And I'm not letting you go alone. It'd be quicker to go home.”  
“Well then, I'll make my way back.”  
“You're not going anywhere,” Charlie declared, and started to swim towards the bank.  
“I am a grown man,” Severus thought his words might have carried a little more weight had he not started to splutter in the middle of them. “And... I... can...” his chest began to heave. “Get some water on my... own!”  
  
There was a roar of dripping water and suddenly Charlie was out of the river, soaking wet, his body glorious as it ran awash with clear droplets.  
  
“Accio,” he muttered, holding his hand out.  
  
Severus felt a fool when a second water bottle flew into the man's outstretched hand; he was ashamed when Charlie bypassed him completely, and put it to Severus' lips himself, as if he was an invalid all over again.  
  
Despite his embarrassment, however, Severus opened his mouth and glugged at the cool liquid, which seemed to soothe right into his lungs, impossible as that was. Charlie lowered the bottle and looked at him, apparently completely unaware of his own nakedness and the goosebumps rising in his flesh. All he seemed was concerned -and concerned about Severus,  
  
 _All he has ever been is concerned for me... why am I surprised?_  
  
Moving impulsively, Severus reached out and locked his fingers around Charlie's wrist. The steady thump of a pulse could be felt beneath surprisingly soft skin, and Charlie didn't move at the touch. Severus lifted his eyes and stared at the redhead, wondering what either of them might do next.  
  
Charlie was the one to make the next move, stepping closer and lifting his chin so that he could better look at Severus.   
  
“Better?” Charlie whispered.  
“Much.” Severus didn't break the stare.  
  
“So this is...” Charlie cast a quick glance around them before finally settling on Severus again.  
“You're naked,” Severus murmured, using all of his willpower not to look down, to not appreciate the long, thick cock spurred into interest by the cold of the river.  
“And you're not,” Charlie pointed out with a tiny grin.  
“And won't be for a very long time,” Severus whispered.  
  
He didn't know what possessed him as he leant in and brushed his lips over Charlie's. The touch was warm and silken and Severus' large nose prodded into a damp cheek. He tried tilting his head to one side to make access easier, but it hurt his throat. Charlie sensed his discomfort and shifted his own head to be more accommodating.  
  
Severus had kissed very few people in his life, and touched even fewer. His hands sprang to life and pressed into Charlie's naked back, digging in with his fingertips simply to prove to himself that he was really doing so.  
  
 _I've gone insane._  
  
Powerful arms looped around his waist and pulled him closer, crushing the front of his clothes against Charlie's front, transferring water and bodily scent. When the wizard's lips parted, Severus only just held onto his gasp of surprise as his tongue slid into a mirroring mouth, tasting and feeling, lost in the sensation. One hand came up to sink into the hair at the nape of his neck. Charlie's hold was firm and yet not insistent, just enough to feel possessed, but still free.  
  
“Nngh, fuck,” Charlie gasped finally, breaking off the kiss. His lips were swollen and they fascinated Severus; they hadn't kissed for long, but the usually pale mouth had flooded with colour, showing off Charlie's debauchery with blatant flair. Severus immediately wondered what his own lips looked like.  
  
“Well... I wasn't expecting that,” Charlie said quietly. His eyes were looking cheekily up from beneath his eyelashes, and as far as Severus could remember, he looked all of sixteen-years-old again. He could see why certain men on the reserve turned their heads to watch Charlie walk past, and why _all_ the women did.  
  
“It's very hard not to look at you when you're...”  
“In the buff?” Charlie supplied.  
“Quite.”  
“Well look at me, then...” the redhead took a step back and gestured to his body. “Nothing more or less than what any other man has got when it boils down to it.”  
“Well, there are a few more inches than several men, and I'm not talking about your waist.”  
“Did you just flirt with me?” Charlie stared.  
  
Blushing, Severus finally turned away and regretted speaking.  
  
“It's good... if you did. I like flirting. Keeps things heated up, right?”  
“I wouldn't know,” Severus called over his shoulder, as he started back through the trees to where Charlie had left their hiking gear.  
  
***  
“Still avoiding me, huh?” Charlie leant against the door frame to Severus' bedroom, and loitered casually on the threshold.  
“I'm not avoiding you.” Severus gave a cough. He really had overstepped the mark with the talking that day and he was beginning to feel it in his throat muscles. “I'm just... ashamed.”  
“Because you kissed a man?” Charlie frowned. “Or because you kissed me?”  
  
Severus didn't answer him, but turned a page in the book he was reading. There was a sigh and seconds later he heard the bedsprings creak as Charlie sat down upon it. Remaining at the small desk and chair that had been put in the room for his sole use, Severus pretended to read some more of the text in front of him.  
  
“So... do you like men, or what?”  
“I have no idea.”  
“So what was that up by the river?”  
“Look, Weasley, don't you have somewhere to be? A dragon to be watching over?”  
“Do you want me to go?”  
“Yes, I want you to go, you idiot,” Severus snapped, turning quickly in his chair and regretting it for the sudden pain in his upper body. “Isn't it clear that I have no desire to discuss... the situation... with you...”  
  
His voice gave out on the last few words, and with an experimental croak, he sagged, acknowledging that he had finally chased it away.  
  
“Good, that's shut you up,” Charlie muttered, somewhat viciously.  
  
Severus glared at him.  
  
“Look...” Charlie awkwardly reached up to scratch the top of his head. “I guess you kissed me because you wanted to kiss me, and that's fine. I enjoyed it. You're a good kisser. And if you want to kiss me again I won't complain. But I don't do tangled messy stuff, Severus... where I get played around for a fool and then dumped at the end of it. My lovelife is one thing I like to keep quite calm and peaceful because I get enough fire in my every day life. Not saying it can't be rough or... whatever... but don't turn this into a drama.”  
  
Insulted, Severus turned away, burying his nose in his book again.  
  
“I really enjoyed our walk.” Charlie's warm voice was far too close to Severus' ear, and far closer than he had expected. “Maybe we could do it again at some point? When you're feeling better.”  
  
Severus froze as a soft kiss pressed into the top of his hair.  
  
“I'm going to the pub. I'll see you later.”  
“Bye,” Severus managed to choke out, his jaw dropped, still in shock.  
“I'm affectionate, apparently,” the shine came off Charlie's voice at those words. “Someone told me that, a very long time ago.”  
  
 _Bill told him that._ Severus automatically knew who had spoken those words.  
  
“Did you love him?” Severus croaked.  
“With everything I had. More if he'd let me give it. But he wouldn't.”  
“Why not?”  
  
Severus had decided to push, but it became very clear that Charlie wasn't going to let him any further into the secret that Severus already secretly knew.  
  
“It doesn't matter, long time ago now. Big boy and I can handle it. Right now I need to handle a pint and a bag of peanuts. See you later if you're still up. Don't stress about this. Anything can happen, or nothing can happen. Your choice.”  
“Why are you so...” his voice faded away again.  
“Easy?” Charlie offered.  
  
Severus said nothing, because he couldn't.  
  
Charlie shrugged. “Just built this way. See you later.”  
  
Severus sat in silence for a long while after he heard the front door to the cabin close, and Charlie's footsteps on the path outside. The day had been a total blur, and he was tired, but his mind was too full to sleep.  
  
 _Too full of a naked redhead, covered in freckles and hung like a fucking hippogriff._  
  
Moaning, Severus let his face fall forward and he caught it in the palms of his hands.  
  


* * *

  
  
“So are you fucking him?”  
“No,” Charlie said firmly. “Drop it, Andrei.”  
“But... he's a man... living in your house... when he washes, he's quite attractive.”  
“He's straight,” Charlie lied. “As a flagpole. Now, shut up and let me concentrate on walking in a straight line.”  
“You can't do that when you're sober.”  
“Well, drunk is an improvement.”  
“You'll never be improved.” Andrei's throaty laugh bounced back off the nearest trees. Charlie had no idea why the man was still walking with him when his cabin was on the other side of the reserve. “Because you're perfect the way you are.”  
  
Charlie knew he was drunk, however, when Andrei was able to grab him and throw him into the wall of what thankfully turned out to be his house. Hot hands coursed down his chest to play at the hem of his t-shirt, tugging at it.  
  
“Can I come in?” Andrei's dark eyes widened playfully.  
“No, because Severus is there. Did you miss the whole point of the conversation, Andy?”  
“Are you sharing a bedroom or what?”  
“No but the walls are pretty thin... so...”  
“C'mooon, Charlie...” calloused fingers crept up beneath his top and stroked his belly.  
“Look, we can't fuck around now. I'm meant to be helping him.”  
“Helping him or fucking him?”   
“Helping,” Charlie's breath hitched as a hand smoothed over his crotch.  
“Help me...”  
“You're pissed.”  
“I know. So are you. Can I sleep on the floor?”  
“In my room, I don't want Severus to fall over you.”  
  
Andrei snorted into Charlie's throat, which in turn caused him to snigger.  
  
“I've missed you.”  
“Well... I missed you too... but you know about Tom... and...”  
“I know,” Andrei's face took on a bitter look. “I know.”  
  
“You can sleep on my floor. If you promise to be quiet.”  
  
Andrei made a dramatic 'my lips are sealed' movement over his mouth and then cracked up laughing again. Rolling his eyes, Charlie rummaged for his keys in his pocket and slid it into the lock. Easing it open, he ushered Andrei inside and tried to remain as quiet as he possibly could.  
  
“Your room still the one on the left?”  
“As ever,” Charlie threw the keys on the small table beside the door. “I just want some water and I'll be in.”  
  
Keeping his tread light along the hallway, Charlie didn't bother to light the candles in the kitchen. He was surprised to find one still burning, casting a shadow over the shape of someone sitting at the table.  
  
“Severus?” he squinted.  
“Yes.”  
“You waited up for me?” Charlie gaped.  
“So it seems.”  
“I didn't... think...” he swallowed guiltily, looking over his shoulder to where Andrei had disappeared into his room. “That's not what _you_ think.”  
“It doesn't matter if it is.” Severus rose to his feet and side stepped the table.   
  
His look was cold as he passed out of the kitchen, and into the dark hallway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst; past Weasleycest, arguing, Charlie!tears.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." Drama, when thy visit, thy come in droves...

Charlie jerked awake at the loud clunk to his right. Struggling to see in the gloomy light of his bedroom, he saw a dark figure looming over him. His first instinct was to fling his hand out to his bedside cabinet for his wand, which he did, but his knuckles collided with hot china and the sound of a loud swear word and something shattering deafened him.  
  
“What the fuck is going on?” He blurted, pushing himself upright and peering at the floor. “Severus?”  
  
There were footsteps on the floor as the figure retreated to the door. The curtains at the window pulled back and flooded the room with light without Charlie's instruction and there was a pained grunt from the end of his bed. Only then did Charlie recognise the weight on his feet.  
  
“Andy, get the fuck off me.” He aimed a half-hearted kick at the man and looked to Severus. “What're you playing at, creeping in here? Scaring the _shit_ out of me?”  
“I was trying to bring you a cup of tea.” Severus pointed to the shattered mug and sopping carpet. “Clearly such mundane actions of kindness are too much for you to understand.”  
  
Without another word from the man by it, Charlie's door slammed shut and both he and Andrei moaned at the pain in their heads.  
  
“A man you live with...” his friend yawned. “Who creeps into your bedroom and makes you a cup of tea and gets really offended when you waste it?”  
“Get the fuck out,” Charlie moaned, tossing a pillow at him. “You're late for work. You were on early shift, remember?”  
  
The man flew off the end of the bed, muttering beneath his breath in fluent Romanian.  
  
“I'll be strung up by my balls,” he moaned desperately, throwing his shirt over his head.  
“Well don't you dare tell anyone you were in my bed,” Charlie threatened, easing his own legs off the mattress. “Or there'll be a load of shit and I can't be arsed at the minute.”  
“I can sleep with who I want,” Andrei said contemptuously. “And so can you, Charlie. Tom doesn't own you.”  
  
Charlie said nothing, feeling darkness curling in his mind and belly.   
  
“Right, see you later. I'm gone and not a word,” Andrei promised, stuffing his feet into his boots. “Good night, Charlie boy. We should do it more often. No need to lock yourself away like an old spinster, even if you are one.”  
  
Just as quickly as Severus had departed, so had Andrei, and Charlie was alone. Feeling weak, he fell backwards onto the mattress and closed his eyes, letting his feet trail onto the floor. There were days which he had grown to recognise -days when it wouldn't be worth him getting out of bed; with the past already curdling within him, and his head suffering low thumps from his evening in the pub.  
  
Work called, however, and he knew that hiding in bed under the guise of illness would fool nobody who had been with him the previous evening.  
  
 _And it won't fool Severus._  
  
Unsure of why he cared about that fact, Charlie staggered upright, and tried to focus his thoughts on a long, hot shower.  
  
***  
  
“I'm sorry about earlier,” Charlie offered quietly, leaning against the worktop with a mug to his lips. “I told Andrei to sleep on the floor.”  
“I don't know why you think I care,” Severus answered, his voice painfully scratching.  
  
Charlie idly thought about chastising him for speaking aloud and then thought better of it due to the sour look on the man's face. Severus was sat at the small kitchen table drinking coffee, reading slowly through their imported copy of The Daily Prophet. Charlie stared at his socked feet and twitched his big toe for something to do.  
  
“Sometimes, I just need to get drunk and piss about with my mates,” Charlie said, hearing the nerves in his voice. “I don't do it often but lately... what with the poison Tom's throwing around the reserve and... stuff...” he cleared his throat. “I needed some release. I'm sorry if I put you out by staying out and by letting another man back in here.”  
  
 _Why the fuck are you apologising for your actions in your own house?!_  
  
Charlie blinked confusedly and wrapped his lips over the edge of his mug, waiting to see if Severus would respond to his unnecessary apology. As it was, the thin man unfolded from his seat and carried his own cup to the sink, where he set it gently down. Severus' arms folded, and Charlie waited as dark eyes fell upon him.  
  
“I am here for my own safety, if you remember rightly.” The words were short and clipped. “And I don't see how inviting someone into your home to stay the night is acting in my best interest.”  
“He's a friend!” Charlie protested. “ _My_ friend, and I've known him for years. Wouldn't hurt a fly. All he wanted to know was whether we were fucking or not.”  
“So he could fuck you instead if the answer was the latter?” Severus asked hotly.  
  
Charlie spluttered and lowered his mug.  
  
“Andrei's just a flirt,” he said finally. “Nothing more.”  
  
A dry laugh put Charlie's back on edge and he felt anger prickle in his veins. Slamming his mug down on the counter, he pushed off from it and folded his own arms over his chest, and they were considerably thicker than Severus' own.  
  
Severus stared at him, clearly contemplating his next sentence.  
  
“I'm going to work,” Charlie announced, before he had the chance to get anything out. “And when I come back I hope you'll have reverted to the normal man I've been living with for a while, rather than this twat.”  
“I beg your pardon?” Severus asked, his eyes widening.  
“You heard me,” Charlie spat. “You're here under my generosity. Nothing else. I offered to have you come and live here to save your skin, not so that you could be my second mother -Godric knows I get enough from my _actual_ mother.”  
  
Severus' eyes flinched as if he had been slapped. Charlie simply stared at him, to see whether there would be a retort.  
  
When nothing came, he turned on his heel and grabbed his coat on the way out. The door slammed satisfyingly behind him as he stormed out into the cool air of the reserve.  
  


* * *

  
  
Severus neatly folded the last robe into his suitcase and looked at the perfectly packed clothes. He summoned his books and watched them plop down on his bed, frowning at them. There were too many to fit in his case and he couldn't remember how they had got them to Romania in the first place.  
  
 _Charlie condensed them into something._  
  
Huffing, Severus trailed his fingers over the covers of the topmost books and thought how he hadn't even read most of them during his stay. At the time of leaving the United Kingdom, he couldn't see how else he would fill his days other than by burying his nose in his books. The quiet, relaxing reserve, however, had proved him wrong at every turn. He had expected to find the men thick and dull, resigned to a life with animals purely because they had no other option. Charlie had only been the first to prove him wrong.  
  
Severus sighed and turned his back on the books, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and looking at the small room which had been granted to him. There was nothing extraordinary about it; the walls were painted cream and the floorboards were varnished, but otherwise naked. The smell of it was pleasant, a warm, homely smell, which Severus had never quite managed to place. Charlie was no great cook, but oddly his house smelt of baking, of sweet, rising bread, and sweeter, spongy cake. There had been several parcels of sustenance from the boy's mother, but they never lasted enough for the scent to linger. It was simply there, a nice accompaniment to the peaceful life that Charlie had set up for himself.  
  
 _Which he invited you into without batting an eyelid, shortly after what sounds like a nasty breakup._  
  
Lacing his fingers together, Severus chewed on the inside of his cheek. The cabin was silent apart from the singing of the birds outside in the trees.  
  
“And here I am, packing to leave this haven.” Severus shook his head and muttered insults at himself. “All he did was have a friend over to stay. This is his house, you bloody fool.”  
  
The low whispers hurt his throat, which had been aching ever since their argument that morning. Tension made it painful as much as talking would have, he found.  
  
 _Merlin only knows what shouting would do to it. Kill it completely, I suppose._  
  
Glum, Severus looked at his feet. If he was honest, he had felt uncomfortable in Charlie's presence since the weekend before, since their little hike in the mountains with a little kiss which had presented him with a big problem -attraction. There was absolutely no doubt that Charlie was an attractive man, muscled to the hilt and colourfully inked, and had a colourful personality to match. He was soft around the edges, too warm to ever be truly malicious. Even as the redhead had grown angry with him that morning, it had been easy for Severus to see how the act went against his nature, abrading at his very core. Regret rose in his chest that he had ever provoked such a wrongful reaction from such a peaceful creature.  
  
Getting to his feet, Severus drifted to the door of his room, which he had left open so that he could hear immediately if Charlie returned home. The hallway was bare apart from a collection of shoes by the door and a coat rack. A small table stood next to it, where Severus had witnessed Charlie tossing his keys on a daily basis. On the old wood stood a picture frame, and within it, nine people milled about the photograph.  
  
Drawn to it without realising, Severus picked up the plain square and lifted it to his eyes. The entire Weasley family were before him, albeit much younger than he remembered them. He searched for Charlie and found him at the back of the group, his curly hair much shorter and far less flattering than it currently was. An already-thick arm was laced around another's shoulders, and Severus focussed on the second man's face: William Weasley, the eldest child, grinning from ear-to-ear.  
  
Severus simply stared at the two and took in the ease with which they stood next to each other, sides touching, smiles almost identical. Looking over the twins in the picture, Severus knew that doubles ran in the family, but he wondered how many people had ever noticed just how alike the smiles of the eldest two boys were. He found himself unable to look away from it, from the captivating plumpness of their lips, which he knew Charlie's still retained. He couldn't help the way his mind transformed the image to what he had seen in the man's dreams; to see Bill and Charlie kissing, wrapped around one another, nuzzling and nipping and moaning.  
  
His insights into Charlie's dreams had only grown stronger to their kiss. He couldn't decide whether that would be because Charlie was more open to letting him in, or whether Severus himself was more curious to pry into the man's sleeping thoughts. The images he saw no longer even held the slight prickle of horror they had in the beginning, but had become completely normal to him, the idea of two brothers kissing.  
  
Of course, he knew that they had progressed to much more than kissing. He had spent at least three nights that week blushing in his bed, his fingers desperately wrapped around his penis as he remembered the images, and, on one mortifying occasion, having to put himself in Bill's place, to have Charlie to himself, if only in his fantasies.  
  
“Utterly ridiculous,” Severus muttered to himself.  
  
He set the photograph down again and turned to head back to his room. The door to Charlie's was ajar, however, and it took his attention. The redhead never left it open, simply to keep the heat in the moderate space. The small sliver of wall was almost an invitation, Severus thought, as he stretched his fingers out for the door handle.  
  
The bed was unmade as he stepped into the room. It smelt strongly of Charlie, and of what Severus realised was his choice aftershave. The curtains were still pulled back from where he himself had tugged them back that morning, blinding both the men on the bed.  
  
On the walls he found more photographs, although the same faces moved within them. A young Charlie holding a baby boy on his hip -Ron, Severus surmised. A teenaged Charlie waved from his broom, which he touched with utter pride and care, whilst Ginny clung to his waist, her face pink with the thrill of a ride with her big brother. Severus followed the line of the photographs until he found what he had been subconsciously looking for -Bill and Charlie by themselves. They were much older; Severus narrowed his eyes and placed Bill at around twenty, and thus Charlie at eighteen, possibly fresh out of his last year at Hogwarts, considering the sand behind them and what looked like the head of a camel just creeping into shot.  
  
 _Looks as if he'd rather die than let him go._  
  
The protectiveness in the picture made him uncomfortable, and so Severus turned away. The bed was a mess, with the covers screwed up exactly how Charlie had pushed them aside that morning as he had left. Severus moved to it, reaching out to reach the top blanket, which was knitted. He followed the different coloured squares until he found letters embroidered in gold thread, a faded 'CW'. He couldn't help but wonder if the blanket had been with Charlie his entire life, through childhood to Hogwarts, and now into his adult life as a successful dragon keeper.   
  
His foot crunched over something and Severus looked down to find that he was treading on an open book, which was perfectly placed to have fallen from a sleeping reader's hand late at night. He bent down and picked it up. It was a text on Dragon veterinary care, which looked old and worn. Smiling at Charlie's interest, even outside of the work place, he set it back into place. A letter slipped from the back cover and shot towards his feet.  
  
Sitting down, Severus unfolded the parchment and immediately saw the date; it placed the letter to have been written ten years before, in 1988. Although he knew he should have been respecting Charlie's privacy, especially after their heated discussion that morning, he couldn't help indulging his eyes to read the messy script.  
  
 _Charlie,  
  
I had to leave early, I got a heads up that the Portkey time had been changed. I know this means we don't get to say goodbye but, seeing how you were yesterday, I don't think that's a bad thing.  
  
I know you want this to keep on, and if I'm honest, I do too. There's nobody that will make me feel like you make me feel, but there are people who I can be with that won't land me in the mental wards of St. Mungo's for being twisted and sleeping with my brother.  
  
I hope you read this when you get to Romania, because then you'll be somewhere new and exciting, and hopefully this disappointment won't hit you too hard. I don't have that luck because Egypt's old now, and there's nothing new for me here. All I have is hard work and sand up the crack of my arse. I miss you. Having you here this summer was brilliant.  
  
Love you, Charlie. It hurts now, but it won't always.  
Yours,  
Bill._  
  
Severus looked up at the picture on the wall, wondering if it was taken during the mentioned holiday to Egypt. He read the words again and didn't understand the anger which sparked to life in his chest. Bill's words seemed heartfelt enough, but Severus found himself inexplicably angry that the man would choose to leave Charlie without saying goodbye -without giving his younger brother the chance to say what he needed to say.  
  
“I wonder if you ever forgave him?” Severus murmured, folding the parchment back up again. Carefully he placed it back amidst the pages he assumed that it must have fallen from, and straightened up again.  
  
Charlie's room felt calming and warm. There was a wardrobe, stuffed full of work clothes and scruffy day clothes alike. The bedside table held a candle bracket. A pile of books rested on the floor by the bed. A broom was propped in the corner. Otherwise, there was nothing else in the room.  
  
 _I thought his life would be full of clutter._  
  
Severus had no idea where that assumption had come from. He had no idea where his inclination to sit in Charlie Weasley's bedroom and contemplate his life had come from, either.  
  
***  
  
“Thicken, you bastard.”  
  
Severus glared at the saucepan and willed it to do his bidding. He stirred quickly with the wooden spoon, as the old cookbook dictated, but all that showed for his hard work was lumpy, vile looking clumps of whiteness.  
  
 _Looks somewhat like come._  
  
Snorting at his filthy thought, Severus shoved the pan off the heat and turned off the old gas hob. He had grown hungry in the afternoon, and thought to make himself something to eat, but the idea had blossomed into the idea of an apologetic meal to make up for his attitude that morning. His cooking skills, however, had clearly grown rusty and his attempt was more than halfway to failure.  
  
To his surprise, however, when he looked out of the window, the sky had grown dark, a transition gone unnoticed thanks to his attention to the food. He swivelled to look at the clock and realised with a jolt that, by their normal schedule, Charlie was two and a half hours late.  
  
Worry instantly sprung up into his chest and Severus razed his lip with his top teeth.   
  
_Why are you worried? He's a grown man who probably thinks he's coming home to another row. Nobody likes that._  
  
Severus remembered well himself the idea of going to dinner to be confronted with an angry Minerva over the way he had penalised her students, or one of the other house heads with similar gripes, Swallowing, Severus let his thoughts linger over a subject that he had thus far been determined to ignore -that normally, at that point in the year, he would have been hard at work at Hogwarts, patronising young idiots and terrorising the weak.  
  
It made him feel more a person, somehow, that he was not there, committing such acts. Feeling like a person, in turn, truly frightened him.  
  
 _People feel, people let others touch their souls and feel better for it._  
  
Unhappy with that idea, Severus grabbed the handle of the pan and shoved it into the sink, reaching for the cold tap. He let water flow into the pan to dilute his failed concoction and allowed it to overflow. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the metal sink in a nervous rhythm.   
  
The flowing water masked the sound of the door opening, but nothing could have disguised the hard slam of it shutting again behind the person who had entered. Severus hurriedly turned the tap off and snatched up the nearest tea towel to dry his hands. He stepped into the line of the sight of the hall just in time to see Charlie disappear into his bedroom and slam that door behind him, as well.  
  
Perplexed, Severus stepped up to the closed wood and pressed his ear against it. He thought he heard a choke inside.  
  
Raising his fist, he rapped his knuckles on the wood and waited for a response. When nothing came, he called out himself.  
  
“Charlie? Is everything alright?”  
“Fine.” The answer was stiff and clearly a lie.  
“What's the matter?” Severus tried again.  
  
That time there was no answer, and Severus' brow furrowed as he waited for a noise, any noise. Throwing caution to the wind, he reached for the handle, which he had so casually bypassed that afternoon, but that time turned it with slow reverence. The door opened easily, swinging without a creak. He looked at the bed and saw Charlie's figure sprawled over it. Wordlessly, Severus lit the candles and waited. He was staggered to hear what was clearly a deep sniff and barely-held-back tears.  
  
“Charlie?” he tried again, keeping his voice soft, though lowering it ached his throat. “What on earth's happened?”  
  
Severus thought he had seen natural disasters which were less heartbreaking than the pale, damp face of Charlie Weasley as it lifted from the bed. His lower lip was bitten and red, and Severus stared at him in dismay. There was something horrendous about seeing such a strong man reduced to tears that Severus could only wonder what terrible tragedy had afflicted his family.  
  
Against his better judgement, Severus dropped to his knees by the side of the bed and looked into wet, golden eyes, which only seemed brighter for the moisture.  
  
“Charlie?” he whispered, reaching out without thinking to tuck some unruly curls behind the man's ear.  
  
There was a rough sniff and Charlie reached up to rub snot from his nose. “You'll think I'm bloody mad.”  
“Well... to be honest, you look quite mad,” Severus reasoned with a grimace.  
  
Silence stretched between them and Severus lowered his hand to the bed.  
  
“Bob died.”  
“Bob?” Severus asked, nonplussed.  
“Turned up this morning and he wasn't moving, wouldn't eat... which put my back up because he always eats, even when he's ill... and then by lunch he had started coughing up blood. He snuffed it in my arms about an hour ago.”  
  
Still wondering who or what Bob was, Severus wondered what to say.  
  
“Remember the dragon I introduced you to on your first day here?” Charlie asked miserably, rolling onto his back and dragging his hand over his face. “The one I picked up and held and you looked at me like I was a fucking lunatic.”  
“You are a lunatic,” Severus scratched out.  
“He died. Just... woke up and... went downhill.” Charlie's eyes glazed over as he looked at the ceiling, his expression falling slack as a grief which Severus could not understand overwhelmed him. “I'm not this much of a wuss normally, I promise. A dragon dies and it's sad and we go down the pub and we get pissed and that's it. We get up, we go back to work, and focus on the animals we've got left. That's the nature of our job -not often that we lose dragons because we're fucking good at our job, y'know... but Bob was just...”  
“Yours,” Severus said finally, remembering what Charlie had said about the other keepers not having time for the runt of the reserve.  
“Mine,” Charlie echoed.  
  
Kneecaps beginning to ache, Severus eased up and perched on the edge of the bed as he had done earlier that afternoon. He caught sight of tear tracks rolling steadily down Charlie's throat, having dripped off his face.  
  
“I'm sorry... for your loss, I mean.”  
“It's just a dragon.” Charlie laughed humourlessly.  
“But a dragon that meant something to you.”  
“Because I'm an idiot,” Charlie muttered.  
“Because you care about what you do, and you're very good at it. You're very talented.”  
“Really, Severus, I don't need an ego massage. Right now I couldn't care less if I never saw another dragon again.”  
“You don't mean that.”  
“I want to go home.”  
  
Charlie sucked in a deep breath and didn't release it. Severus stared at him with a growing horror.  
  
“I want to go home and be with my fucking Mum. Had enough of being the independent one.”  
“Where's this coming from?” Severus asked, looking away. “You like your life here, Charlie.”  
“I do, but I'm like every weak hearted prick when it boils down to it, Severus. Something bollocks happens and I want to leg it home to mummy. I haven't done it for years. I want to now.”  
  
Severus said nothing and felt his innards tighten just a little more.  
  
“But I can't. Because of you.”  
“If you want to go, I'll happily stay here -I can look after myself-”  
“I had conditions.” Charlie sat up and stared at him. “When I brought you here. There were conditions. Me leaving you here to go home would break those conditions.”  
“So you're saying that I'm keeping you here?”  
  
Charlie simply stared.  
  
“Well it's a good thing I packed my things earlier then.” Severus got to his feet.  
“What?” Charlie asked shakily.  
“This afternoon. I was preparing to leave and move on. You seemed so... infuriated this morning.”  
“It was just an argument...”  
  
Charlie stared at him with wide eyes.  
  
“But I didn't go,” Severus said, pointing out the obvious.  
“Good.” Charlie wiped his eyes and nose once more, before struggling off the bed. He kicked off his boots, which narrowly missed Severus' own socked feet.  
  
Wordlessly, the redhead reached out and took his hand. Severus let him, enjoying the warmth of his roughened skin.   
  
“Boys reach for their mum when they're hurt,” Charlie shrugged. “But when they can't get there... they look for comfort somewhere else.”  
“With someone else?” Severus guessed.  
“Uh-huh.” Charlie's tear-stained face lit up with a smile.  
  
Strong arms wrapped around his waist and Severus held his breath as not to inhale the cinnamon spice of Charlie's scent. A broad nose rubbed against the end of his hooked one and hot breath raced across his lips. Only when he felt fabric beneath his fingertips did Severus realise that he was touching the man in return.  
  
“I don't want you to go,” Charlie whispered. “Please don't go, Severus.”  
“I would have gone by now if I was going...”  
  
Another smile curled the man's plump lips before they pressed into Severus' own. It didn't last long before they pulled apart to rest their foreheads together.  
  
“You've got more clothes on this time...” Severus whispered, dry-mouthed. “It's a shame, I think.”  
  
Charlie looked up with surprise and then laughed. “I don't like clothes. Over-rated. Nudity is better.”  
“Better when you have somebody to share it with.”  
“Very true...”  
  
Fingers rose to work at the buttons of his shirt. Severus looked down and watched them as his chest was bared, and finally, as the shirt was pushed down and off his hands. All of a sudden, self-consciousness that he hadn't had the need to confront for years reared within him and Severus shivered. He glanced down at his lingering Dark Mark, the skinniness of his ribs and the non-existence of any kind of softness in his frame. He took a step back and tried to shimmy out of Charlie's large hands.  
  
“Hey...” Charlie frowned and reached for him. “No... don't...”  
“Look, I haven't been... intimate... with anybody for a very long time, and I don't think that...”  
“Shhh...” Charlie pulled him close with one arm behind Severus' back, and the other splayed on his chest in the pitiful splattering of hair between his nipples. “There's more to a person than their bones. My Mum always told me that. Bill wanted the flashy girls, the ones with the shiniest hair, the nicest tits... nicest legs... but me... I always looked further than that.”  
“So, forgive me for asking, but where did you fall into that list of perfection?”  
  
Charlie froze.  
  
“What did you say?” he asked, voice dangerously low.  
“Nothing,” Severus shook his head. “Nothing.”  
“You asked where I came... in the... oh my fuck... fuck...” Charlie stepped back, putting his hands to his face and grasping his hair.  
“I found out by accident,” Severus said hurriedly, reaching out one hand and pressing his finger tips to Charlie's chest. “I didn't... it's not an issue. I don't find it... look. Look...”  
  
“Did you go through my things?” Charlie asked numbly.  
“No. I didn't.”  
  
 _Liar._  
  
“Then how do you know?”  
“Look... since the Battle... when you've been around me constantly... Do you know my abilities as a Legilimens?”  
“Mind reading?” Charlie swallowed.  
“Well... not so much... look. I don't know what's happened to me but since my incident with the Snake, I have trouble controlling the ability. When you were asleep, when I was asleep... it's... I've seen...”  
“My thoughts? My dreams?” Charlie asked wildly.  
“I loathe to admit such an intrusion but... I assure you... I had no control over it-”  
“And now you know my dirty little secret...” Charlie laughed, shaking his head despondently.  
  
“And I'm still here,” Severus pointed out, stepping closer to him.   
“What do you want, a medal?” Charlie asked roughly, voice clouding with emotion.  
“Just for you not to shout and throw me out.” Severus looked down between them.  
  
There was a muted sigh and then Severus heard the sounds of the bedsprings creaking as they took Charlie's weight.  
  
“Don't go,” the redhead whispered.  
“I won't,” Severus promised.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst; past Weasleycest, oral, solo M.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." Neither of them can hold on any more...

“Nyaaaaaaaaargh!”  
  
Charlie almost screamed as his axe whistled through the air and cleaved straight through the log he was chopping for firewood. He knew his wand would have performed the action in seconds, but there was something satisfying about sweating in the late evening sun, his top half bare with tendrils of hair stuck to his neck. The pull in his muscles reminded him of how long it had been since he'd lifted weights in the reserve's gym, but he felt no urge to drop the axe and go and push himself into a sweat.  
  
His woodpile had grown immensely and he was disappointed as he looked at it, knowing that he'd exceeded his storage limit, and that meant no more chopping and manly grunting to get his frustration out.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
Dropping the axe, Charlie whirled around at the voice and felt his jaw drop.  
  
“Bill?” he stared. “What the fuck?”  
“Surprise,” Bill grinned awkwardly, holding his hands open as his wasted face twisted. “I thought... maybe you could do with a visit.”  
“Yeah.” Charlie found himself answering enthusiastically, even though, if he'd been thinking, he would have known that Bill's presence was the last thing he needed.  
  
He sprung forward and threw his arms around his brother and squeezed him, grunting once more with emotion.  
  
“Your pits stink.” Bill made a face, but didn't pull away.  
“Well, I've been out here being manly for an hour, no surprise.”  
“What's up?” Bill's oddly elegant eyebrows rose in question. “You only ever chop wood when you're having a rough go.”  
“I'm fine,” Charlie lied, squeezing him again. “Fuck, I missed you.”  
“Likewise.”  
  
They finally separated and smiled at one another.  
  
“I don't know where you're going to sleep,” Charlie realised suddenly. “Severus is set up in the spare room so...”  
“I'm not staying long,” Bill advised. “I can't. Got to get back.”  
“To Fleur,” Charlie stated pointlessly.  
“Try to sound less resentful?” Bill pleaded.  
  
Charlie simply laughed and led the way back into his cabin, wiping his brow of sweat as he walked. “Drink?”  
“Tea would be good,” Bill answered, Britishly, and Charlie shoved the kettle on the hob with a clang. “You know how I like it.”  
“Hot, strong and slightly sweet.” _Just like your men._  
  
Even though they were both thinking the addition, neither of them said it; they were well used to their past being their past, and despite the opportunity to rekindle it, they had not.  
  
“So how's life with The Potions Master?” Bill asked in a curious voice. “And where is he?”  
“He spends his afternoons helping to brew for the reserve. It makes him feel useful and we're really benefiting from his experience.”  
“You've been here with him a while now,” he commented.  
“Yeah, few months.”  
  
Charlie busied himself making tea, finding the words on the tip of his tongue to tell his brother what had happened to them the week before, after an argument, a dead dragon, and a night of sharing the same bed, simply holding one another. He was ashamed of the way his throat thickened when he thought of how they had slept in one another's arms, and when he had awoken, he had felt peaceful.  
  
“Harry sent me with a message. Public tide has changed.”  
“Oh?” Charlie frowned.  
“If Snape wants to head back to England, the Aurors and Harry think it'll be safe for him to go. People are starting to ask where he is, they're expressing worry. They want him to have the honour that Harry thinks he deserves. There's even call for him to resume his position as Headmaster.”  
“He'll never take it.” Charlie shook his head and tapped a teaspoon against the side of his mug. “I don't think he'll even be able to look the school in the walls again -could you? I couldn't.”  
“Well... anyway. If he wants to move out of this dump, he can. He can come home.”  
“Bet Ron's pleased.” Charlie avoided the slight on his home.  
“Ron has... Ron misses you.” Bill shrugged. “And he and Hermione have broken up, so...”  
“What?” Charlie nearly dropped the mugs.  
“Summer romance, doesn't last,” Bill mused. “They were really thick when you were at home, and it stayed that way for about a month... but then... she was getting ready to go and retrieve her parents and it all fell apart. He's heartbroken.”  
“Didn't he fight?” Charlie sat down, hanging off Bill's every word.  
  
It wasn't hard for him to be entranced by his older brother; there had been a time when his every movement had captivated Charlie, locking him in his own emotion for the boy only two years older than him, who shared his blood, his flesh, his bedroom, and his bed.  
  
“Oh, they both fought... but... It just didn't work. Maybe it will when they're older. They've spent the last year in each other's pockets...”  
“Except for when Ron did a runner,” Charlie pointed out.  
  
He wasn't technically supposed to know about that, but he and Bill shared everything. Of course Bill had written to him in code to explain that Ron had come to him, distraught. He wrote again when their little shit of a brother had disappeared as quickly as he had come, on Christmas Eve of all nights. Bill had been beside himself with worry, and Charlie not far behind.  
  
“Well... we've got to let him do it his way,” Charlie said finally. “Broken hearts and all.”  
“It's just hard.” Bill looked down at the table. “I want to protect him, to not let him feel that... feel what we've felt.”  
  
Azure eyes didn't lift from the wood, though Charlie could imagine the pain he would see there.  
  
“Why are you really here, Bill?” he asked suspiciously, putting his mug to his lips and blowing on the tea. “What's going on?”  
“She's pregnant,” Bill whispered. “She's pregnant.”  
“Is it yours?” Charlie asked, unable to help from trying to lighten the mood.  
“Unfortunately.”  
“You wanted this.”  
“I know I did.”  
“Too late to change your mind, your ring is on her finger. You love her. What's the big deal?”  
“Having you home reminded me of what I gave up that summer in Egypt.”  
“That was a _really_ long time ago.”  
  
Bill sighed and rested his chin on his hand. “I know. But I think about it a lot.”  
  
Charlie met his eye and nodded. “Me too. But it's behind us now, and we'd risk too much by starting up again. We're different people now.”  
“No we're not,” Bill dismissed. “I might have mincemeat for a face, and you might have a few more muscles, but were still Bill and Charlie. I'm still me. You're still you.”  
“But we're in very different places,” Charlie croaked. “I'm... I'm not sure where I am at the minute, but it's not ready to go back on what I thought had finished.”  
“I don't know why I came.” Bill laughed suddenly, shaking his head. His hair was coming loose, impossibly straight strands flapping around his face as he moved. “I think I just needed to see you.”  
“Well, not being funny, but a picture lasts longer.”  
  
Charlie knew a copy of the picture of them in Egypt which hung on his own wall was mirrored in Shell Cottage, a long way away.  
  
“Smell you.”  
“Well you timed it right, I have to say.”  
“Hold you.”  
  
Charlie didn't have an answer for that.  
  
“Look, I should be honest with you. I think... I think that there's something with...”  
  
He was interrupted by the sound of the front door of the cabin opening, and the footsteps in the tiny hallway. Severus appeared in the kitchen doorway and stared at the pair of them. He had colour in his cheeks from the climb to the house, and he was wearing a thin shirt and black jeans. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow.  
  
Nobody at the reserve cared about the ugly tattoo of his Dark Mark. Severus cared, but even he had succumbed to the heat. He stared at Bill as he stood in the doorway, and then looked over at Charlie.  
  
“Hi.” Charlie shot him an earnest smile. “Good day? Tea? Bill came for a visit.”  
“Severus.” Bill rose from his chair and leant over, holding out his hand. It was no surprise to Charlie that Severus was slow to return the gesture, but Bill frowned at the pause in proceedings.  
“Did you have a good day?” Charlie smoothed over the awkwardness as he got up for another mug.  
“It was... fine.”  
  
Charlie had given up reprimanding him for his use of speech. Severus' voice had settled into a scratchy, low tone, which worsened on bad days and remained constant on the good. He no longer seemed to be in as much pain when he spoke, and as he still took all of the remedies suggested by his Healer, Charlie didn't have the heart to scold him. It was nice to have somebody to talk to.  
  
“Earning your keep,” Charlie joked, drowning a teabag in scalding water. “We don't feed for free, Bill, take note.”  
“I'll be in my room,” Severus announced. “I don't want to disturb you.”  
“You can join us if you want,” Charlie finished making his tea and handed it over.  
  
 _Medium strength. Two sugars. Lots of milk._  
  
“I have research to do. The Horntail has scale rot which is resisting my usual prescription.”  
  
With a curt nod, Severus turned and seconds later, they heard his bedroom door close with a sharp snap.  
  
“I'm not welcome?” Bill questioned, eyebrows raised again.  
“He doesn't like change.” Charlie shrugged and sat back down. “He's just getting used to everything here. I think he likes it... likes the way he can work and rest at the same time. I think he finds it peaceful.”  
“Odd, with firebreathing dragons all over the shot.”  
  
Bill smiled at him and Charlie reluctantly returned it.  
  
***  
  
 _Nothing changes._  
  
Charlie rolled over in his bed with a huff. Of course, Bill had asked if they could simply share the bed rather than him sleeping on the sofa. He'd made a joke about dying when the springs shot him in the stomach, and Charlie had been so tired by that point he'd not had the strength to argue.  
  
The second that they'd extinguished the candles, however, his tiredness had evaporated and he was left wide-eyed as Bill snored loudly next to him. His brother's arm was flung over his belly, trying to hold him in place, but failing. Charlie tried not to think about the extra body heat in the sheets, or the way Bill's snores caused breath to brush over the nape of his neck, or the way in turn that made his cock tingle with interest.  
  
A particularly loud snort made him jump and Charlie propelled himself forward until he was standing, looking back down at Bill, whose hair was loose over the pillow, and whose large feet dangled over the end of the mattress. He'd always been jealous of Bill's height, and similarly Percy's and Ron's. He had always wanted to be tall, so that he didn't get neck ache when he reached up to kiss Bill. As immoral as his reasoning was, the desire to have a few extra inches on him had never gone away.  
  
Rubbing at his eyes, Charlie turned and padded from the bedroom and crept into the hallway, hoping not to wake anybody. He saw light shining from beneath Severus' door and frowned. It was late and the man should have been fast asleep; he had to knock, he told himself, just to check that everything was alright.  
  
“Severus?” he whispered, turning the handle and letting himself into the spare room.  
  
The wizard was seated at the small desk, bent over a book in which he was furiously writing.  
  
“What're you doing up at this hour?” he asked, closing the door behind him so that his voice didn't drift and wake up the sleeping beauty in the next room along.  
  
Severus visibly jumped, as though he had not heard Charlie's knock, and looked worriedly over his shoulder.  
  
“Writing,” he answered dully, then closed the little book and set down his pencil.  
“What are you writing?” Charlie tried, shuffling to the perfectly made bed and sitting down on it, his hands beneath his thighs.  
“Just... notes.” Severus turned in the chair and looked at him. “Why aren't you asleep?”  
“Bill snores like a whore,” Charlie muttered, looking down at his bare feet. “I'm out of practice, it seems.”  
  
They hadn't mentioned what Severus knew since the night that it had come to light exactly _what_ he knew. Charlie felt it had been hovering over them like a bad stink, threatening to engulf them and slowly poison them.  
  
“He is somewhat nasally musical,” Severus agreed, after a moment, when a few snores drifted though the thin cabin walls.  
“He's a twat,” Charlie said ruefully. “He came because he wants to pick up where we left off.”  
“Oh?” Severus' hands folded in his lap.  
“Is that all you can say?” he laughed. “Oh?”  
“I saw private memories, Charlie -private fantasies. It is not my place to comment on them.”  
“That wouldn't stop most people.”  
“Well, I'm not most people,” Severus said haughtily. “I am a man with as many secrets as you, though none of mine have as pleasant bone structure as your brother.”  
  
Charlie looked up at him incredulously and then moaned. “See. See how impossible it is to resist him?”  
“But you will.” Severus got up and moved to sit next to him on the end of the bed.  
“Why should I?” Charlie breathed. “He's offering what I want.”  
“He's married. He's not offering you the whole idyll.”  
“His wife is pregnant,” Charlie added.  
“Then you know you can't.”  
“I've always known that, but I still fucking did.”  
“Well, older and wiser. I suppose that should count for something?”  
  
Charlie tipped his face forward into his hands, and when he spoke, he spoke into his fingers. “I got up to stop myself from touching him.”  
“Wise move.”  
“But I want to touch someone.”  
  
His words hovered between them, and instead of seeming poisonous, they seemed to set the air alight. A light touch pressed to the base of his spine.  
  
“Your boyfriend would be glad of the company,” Severus said drily, before he got up and put his hands to the buttons of his shirt.  
“I don't have a boyfriend,” Charlie answered automatically.  
“Tomás seems to be under a different impression.” The words were delicately put.  
“What?” Charlie asked.  
“Well... this afternoon he took it upon himself to drop into the labs... to make his opinions known.”  
“What did he say to you?” Charlie spat.  
“Only to keep my hands to myself.” Severus laughed. “I told him my hands would wander where they were wanted, but I didn't think they were wanted by you.”  
  
Charlie frowned. “What makes you say that?”  
  
Severus cleared his throat and undid his belt. He said nothing more.  
  
“Severus, where've you got that idea from?” Charlie insisted, rising to his own feet and stepping close to the wizard.  
“I said the right thing to get him out of my face,” Severus clarified. “Whether the words are true or not are up to you to prove.”  
  
Charlie answered the words by springing forward and seizing Severus' face in his hands, kissing him hard on the lips. There was a grunt of surprise but no resistance, and after a moment Charlie felt hands holding his waist. He nudged closer, pressing into Severus' body.  
  
“You're my lodger,” he breathed. “You're here to get better. Not for me to...”  
“To what?” Severus answered, equally as breathily. His eyes were bright. “Debauch? Corrupt?”  
  
Charlie kissed him again and wrapped his arms around Severus' back. There was an odd, sick thrill at knowing he was kissing another man with only a wall separating him from his soulmate, and Charlie relished it. They were stumbling for the bed before he knew it, and slim fingers had worked beneath his t-shirt and were caressing his belly. They fell, landing with puffs of breath and gasps on the mattress. Charlie smothered Severus with his weight, pinning him down, commanding his lips with very little effort. The man tasted of tea and smelt of herbs. His eyes were closed for the kiss whilst Charlie's remained open, allowing him to watch every quirk of Severus' brow, every twitch of his eyelids, and the deepening colour in his cheeks.  
  
Feeling his body begin to respond, Charlie shifted, wondering how he should proceed. If it wasn't already, his cock would become noticeable to Severus at any second, and he didn't know how the man would take his obvious attraction. Only when he rocked his hips by accident did Charlie feel a mirroring arousal beneath him. Severus' eyes flew open and warily regarded him, as if waiting for rejection.  
  
“What are we doing?” Charlie murmured desperately, searching dark eyes for an answer before Severus could speak.  
“What we've always been doing,” Severus answered.  
“Which is what?”  
“Helping each other cope.”  
  
Charlie thought about it for a second, but was distracted when Severus captured his lips and kissed him, holding all the power in the exchange for that moment. His kiss was strong and, if Charlie hadn't known better, he would have said talented. He ground forward with his hips and whimpered in his throat.  
  
“How did you end up with him?” Severus asked, dropping his chin to be able to kiss below Charlie's “How did you end up sleeping with your brother?”  
“I can't talk about this now!” Charlie exclaimed, hating how high his tone was pitched.  
“Tell me,” Severus said, his voice low and compelling. He continued to kiss Charlie's neck as he waited for an answer.  
“I was fifteen,” Charlie gasped, tilting his head back, though Severus did not detach. “And I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss a boy... and he was there. He wouldn't laugh at me. He wanted to help me see if I was really gay or not... wanted me to be happy.”  
“And then what happened?” Severus asked as he switched sides.  
“I got hard when he kissed me... and then he touched me... brought me off.”  
“And is the rest the old cliché -that it was all history?” Severus whispered in his ear.  
“Yup.”  
  
Charlie closed his eyes with shame and stuffed his face into Severus' shoulder. A firm hand suddenly stroked the length of his spine.  
  
“You love him.”  
“How can I not?”  
“More than you've ever loved anybody in your life.”  
“And probably ever will. It's why I go through boyfriends so quickly... because I don't feel for them, not like what I felt for him. Nothing ever tops it, you know?”  
“I know,” Severus whispered. “Believe me, Charlie, I know how that feels. To know you'll never love another like you loved that first person, the person who shaped you into what you are... or in my case, what I should have been, but was too cowardly to be.”  
“I think you got there in the end,” Charlie offered, pulling up slightly so that he could look into the older wizard's face.  
  
There was a non-committal hum of agreement and Charlie waited, wondering what to do next. Their cocks were still hard between them.  
  
“Are you thinking about him?” Severus asked quietly. “Is it him you're lying on top of, rather than me? Is he on the receiving end of your kisses?”  
“Is she on the end of yours?” Charlie asked, hearing the waver in his voice.  
“No,” Severus answered.  
“And neither is Bill on the end of mine.”  
  
They were kissing again, breathing roughly out of their noses and tickling the other's cheeks with the action. Charlie let his hands begin to roam, cupping Severus' shoulders and allowing them to run down his skinny sides until they could no longer reach new bone. He rolled onto his side and pulled the man with him, so they faced each other. Charlie laced his leg over Severus hip and placed a hand in the small of his back, pulling him close. They remained joined at the lip. Severus' palm settled on his cheek.  
  
“Why aren't you running?” Charlie gasped, as Severus pushed him slightly, trying to tempt him onto his back. “Why don't you think I'm fucked up?”  
“Because we're all fucked up, Charlie.” The man laughed in his face, a humourless laugh which failed to reach his eyes. “I am supposed to be mute. I am miserable. I am living a life under guard of another. I don't know whether I'm coming or going or even what my sexual inclinations are any more. All I know is that you are here, and you seem to want me, and I can't deny myself what you're offering me. Not any more.”  
“Could you love me?” Charlie asked desperately, his eyes wide. “Could you feel for me, Severus?”  
“You sat by my bedside through my worst -Charlie, I already feel for you. But it's nothing compared to what you feel for another man, and what I feel for another woman.”  
“We're fucking idiots.”  
“Yes.”  
  
Charlie said nothing in favour of working his hand between them and fiddling for the button of Severus' trousers. He opened it with little bother, well practised, and worked on the zip instead, pushing it down. He heard the metal clicking. He brushed soft cotton and added more pressure. Severus hissed into his mouth.  
  
“Have you ever been with a man?” Charlie asked curiously.  
“No.” The words were forced out between gritted teeth. “But you... God, for you, I'd make a world of exceptions and regret none of them.”  
  
The words sank to his core and Charlie burst into action, rolling Severus onto his back once more and then pulling down his trousers. He exposed pale flesh and dark body hair. He paid no heed to the plain and functional underwear, dragging it away unceremoniously. The cock he revealed was averaged sized and nestled in a thatch of dark curls. It was purpled at the tip and the blue veins which ran through it were beautifully visible; Charlie was sure that if he watched them for long enough he would see them throbbing. It made dribble gather beneath his tongue and he looked up to meet Severus' eye, to gain permission, and to cajole it if it would not be freely given. As it was, Severus nodded quickly and bit hard into his lip.  
  
Charlie ducked his head and sucked the swollen flesh into his mouth. Severus gasped and arched his hips into the air, pressing further into Charlie's mouth.  
  
 _Sucked so much cock you can take him..._ Charlie batted the rueful thought away and slid more of Severus into his mouth, wondering how the man would take such an intense experience during his first time with a man. A sultry growl rose up from the head of the bed, however, and Charlie glanced upwards to see a flushed neck and a tilted back head, resting on the pillows. Severus' fists were gripping the duvet, dragging it into little peaks beneath his touch.  
  
Licking with his tongue, Charlie hummed softly beneath his breath, regulating his breathing through his nose. He kept the vibration up and began to slide up and down on the shaft, coating it with his spit. He slid right the way to the head, moving until the last moment when he would surely fall off, and then plunged back down again to the hilt. Severus cried out. Repeating the move, Charlie extracted even more cries, and even a whisper of his name. Using his shoulder, he pushed Severus' leg aside and used the other to repeat the action, spreading the man open for him. He put a finger to a hot perineum and tickled, causing a hitch in breath. He scraped his nail over the man's anus, and felt a jolt of jubilation pass through him as Severus jerked and spilt into his mouth with a single cry of pleasure.  
  
Charlie swallowed every drop and gently sucked off the end when he assessed the sensation would be too much. Severus lay spread-eagled and panting on the bed and Charlie palmed his own cock, trapped within his jeans. He worked it free, letting his denims fall about his knees. Slowly he began to stroke himself, focusing hard on Severus' softening penis and remembering the delicious sounds he had made, and the taste of his come. It didn't take long for orgasm to tighten his sac, and then, with a grunt, he coated his own hand with seed, and some of it landed on Severus' thigh. He looked up and found the man captivated, watching with his mouth open. Charlie sank down onto his heels and flexed his fingers.  
  
“Scourgify.” The spell was not his own and as the skin of his fingers was cleaned, he felt the bed shift.   
  
Severus reached for him and pulled him in for another kiss. Charlie fell down onto his back and kicked his jeans from his ankles; the duvet was layered over the pair of them and then the room plunged to darkness. Severus shifted into his side and locked him into place. Charlie flung his arm up and worked it beneath the man's neck. He turned his face right and kissed his hair.  
  
He was glad it was dark, because he didn't fancy explaining the dampness in his eyes.  
  
“Goodnight, Charlie,” Severus murmured.  
“Goodnight, Severus.”  
  


* * *

  
  
 _Cinnamon._  
  
Severus inhaled the familiar scent and revelled in it, loving the way it curled into his senses and drugged him into feeling safe. It wasn't until he flexed his toes that he realised there was another in his bed. A small whuffle came from next to him and he opened one eye. Charlie was peaceful as he slept, his expression slack. His hair was mad about his head, tangled on the pillow and even just tangled in thin air. Severus was fascinated by the man's hair and the natural curls which fell in it.  
  
He jumped at the sudden banging on his door.  
  
“Charlie, you in there?” Bill's voice came through the wood. Charlie jumped in Severus' eyes and looked, terrified, around the room, the scared look of a man jerked from a beautiful, deep sleep.  
  
Their privacy was shattered to pieces as the door flew open with Bill's next bang on the wood, and he froze on the threshold, his fist raised, at the sight of them tangled together.  
  
“Oh... right...” he cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “Charlie. There's someone at the door for you. Needs to see you urgently. Won't go away.”  
“Whozzit?” Charlie blundered.  
“Says his name is Tomás?”  
  
Severus grunted as Charlie sat bolt upright and proceeded to stumble from the bed.  
  
“Charlie?” he asked uncertainly, watching as the burly redhead struggled into his clothes. “Are you-”  
“I can't.” Charlie shook his head as he pulled his t-shirt over it.  
“Can't what?” Bill asked, confused.  
“Have you _and_ him here at the same time,” Charlie declared, putting his hands to Bill's chest. “You. Fuck off home. Now. Get out of here and stop trying to tempt me into something so you can break my heart again.”  
“Charlie!” Bill cried, looking with horrified eyes in Severus' direction.  
“He knows.” Charlie laughed. “He knows all about us.”  
“You told him?”  
“No. Get out,” Charlie insisted. “Go home to your wife and your unborn child and don't come back here.”  
  
Severus got cautiously out of the bed and followed them to the doorway. Charlie seemed to be bodily pushing his brother towards the door, which he pulled open, and the man waiting only just managed to leap out of the way as Bill was shoved out onto the step.  
  
“And you, you can fuck _right_ off,” Charlie half-roared in the newcomer's direction. “What do you want? A piece of me as well? To get back together? I might shag everyone, Tom, but you sure as fuck are the one that always comes crawling back when the bed gets cold.”  
“I-”  
“Fuck off,” Charlie bellowed, before he slammed the door in both of their faces, and threw his back against it.  
  
Severus watched as the man's legs gave way and he slid into a heap on the doormat.  
  
“Charlie?” he asked tentatively, knowing that his pitiful voice would not carry very far, but hoping it wouldn't, if he was to receive the same order as the other two lovers.  
“Severus...” Charlie looked up at him. “What have I done?”  
  
Severus couldn't answer him, but simply stood and watched him desperately trying to pull himself together.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst; past Weasleycest.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." Health: it always gets in the way.

“Charlie. You're dreaming.”  
  
Dreaming was perhaps the toned down version of what the redhead was going through, Severus thought. He had been awoken through the wall to rough shouts of terror and his mind had been flooded with imagines which were not his own.  
  
The wind went out of his lungs as strong arms grabbed him and yanked him down on the bed. Charlie's face pressed into his neck.  
  
“Alright...” Severus tried to relax into the hold. “Alright.”  
“It was a dream...” Charlie whispered. “Just a dream?”  
“Yes.”  
“Felt so real.” Charlie groaned, his entire body tensing. “It was like he... his blood on my fingers.”  
“Just a dream,” Severus repeated. “So go back to sleep, and forget it.”  
  
There was a deep suck of breath and then Charlie fell silent. Severus remained deadly still until he felt the man's chest settle back to even rise and fall and then he let his head roll back on the pillow and exhaled. He wasn't surprised that Charlie had been traumatised by what his mind had cooked up. Severus had seen many people die, several in horrific ways. He had seen deaths which, after hours of torture, were no more than a blessing to the victims, who always took on an expression of peace when the curse sank through their body. Deaths of all kinds had kept Severus awake at night, but the intensity of the emotion which Charlie had unwittingly forced into his psyche had rocked him to his core, causing nausea to rise in his stomach. The only death to even touch him since Lily had been Albus', and even that he had forced to the back seat of his mind, knowing that there were far more important things that he had to concentrate on.  
  
Severus closed his eyes, eager for the images to disappear, and for the bloodied, mangled image of the eldest Weasley child to leave his conscious.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Oh Godric...”  
  
Charlie rubbed blearily at his eye, wondering quite why he felt like he had been hit over the head with a bludger. The worst part was that, on the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts, he'd suffered the exact fate and well remembered the feeling of dopey incoherency which had followed when he awoke in the hospital wing.  
  
 _But Bill was there waiting by your side, holding your hand._  
  
His brother's name made Charlie shudder, although it took his mind a few moments to catch up, to remember quite why he felt so rough. It certainly explained why Severus had been in his bed when he'd woken up; it had confused him, because he couldn't remember falling asleep next to him. Not that he minded, of course. Protective arms had been around his torso and the smell was comforting, the sheets impossibly warm.  
  
Glancing at the clock, Charlie saw that he had an hour before he was due out on morning patrol. For the first time ever, he had no enthusiasm for it. Normally he was up and raring to go where his dragons were concerned, but that morning his limbs felt heavy and his might as well not have belonged to him. It felt disconnected.  
  
 _This is a long time coming..._  
  
Clearing his throat, Charlie felt the soreness in the inner muscles and moaned.  
  
“Not now.” His voice came out as a scratch. “Fuck.”  
  
A sneeze built in his nose and Charlie flapped his hands, unable to act coolly with the impending explosion in his sinuses. Screwing up his face, when the sneeze came, it was impossibly loud –loud enough to wake the light sleeper just along the hallway. However, when Charlie re-opened his eyes, which were streaming, after the sneeze, it wasn't his volume that worried him -it was the fact that his 'sneeze' had seemingly set alight the tea towel on the worktop. He had no time to put the flames out, however, as another sneeze rocked him. When he dared to look again, the fire was stronger.  
  
“Oh fuck and arse,” he croaked desperately.  
  
Bending his leg, Charlie grabbed his bare foot. The proof he had been dreading was there -a greenish purple rash leaking from between his toes. He had been extremely lucky in the past; he'd been inoculated against Dragon Pox, but his mother had always told him never to trust medicine. As it turned out, it looked like she had been right, and he had contracted the malady which they were warned of at every staff meeting. Reaching up to run his fingers through his hair, Charlie glared at the still-flaming tea towel. At some point, he must have been lax over his hygiene.  
  
 _Bob?_  
  
It was possible, he knew. The disease carried an incubation period of around three weeks, and with quick mental calculations, Charlie didn't want to admit that his obsessive care of the creature in its last hours had probably landed him with something which was going to knock him out of the running at work for at least a month and possibly get him sent home.  
  
That, in turn, would present difficulties for Severus.  
  
 _Severus!_  
  
Swearing on his sore throat, Charlie turned on his heel and made his way back towards the bedroom. Paying more attention, it was clear to him that he was off. His feet were clumsy and his head felt far too thick. Pushing through the door to his room, Charlie blinked into the darkness. He knew he needed to keep his distance, however late it might be. He might have already infected the invalid man in his bed.  
  
“Severus, I need you to wake up,” he said loudly. “Severus?”  
  
There was a light snuffle but no other answer forthcoming. Charlie felt his frustration rise and slammed his palm into the door frame. He slid his wand from the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and flicked a cool air spell in Severus' direction.  
  
“Don't,” the man said sleepily, tugging at the bed cover and yanking it up to his chin. “Go 'way.”  
  
As sweet as his tired speech was, Charlie needed him to move, to get out of the bed and stop inhaling the infected air. He sent a stronger spell and then charmed open the curtains, flooding the room with light. There was a loud curse and Severus shot bolt upright in bed and rasped, “What?” in Charlie's direction, his eyes narrowed and his lips twisted into a snarl scary enough to make a first year at Hogwarts cry.  
  
The expression held for a few moments and then, Severus peered at him, and his mouth fell open. At that, Charlie had to acknowledge that his rash was probably on his face, too.  
  
“You're green,” Severus said thickly. Charlie saw the muscles in his throat working hard as he struggled to swallow. “You're...”  
“Dragon pox.” Charlie grimaced at him. “Fucking dragon pox. I'm out now for a month, they don't let you back into work with this in case you start a bloody epidemic.”  
“Because you can pass it back to the dragons,” Severus breathed, his eyes darting all over Charlie's body. “Rash?”  
“In the usual place,” Charlie muttered. “Sore throat, sneezing sparks which -shit! The tea towel!”  
  
Carting around and running to the kitchen, Charlie saw the flames from his long-deceased cloth licking towards the wall. He put it out with a single wave of his wand, but the magic drained his energy. He leant against the worktop for support and felt his stomach turn over.  
  
If there was one thing Charlie hated, it was being ill.  
  
“Charlie. What do I need to do?”  
  
Severus' question was straightforward and blunt; one man asking another who knew exactly how to treat an illness. Charlie licked his lips and thought.  
  
“Disinfectant spells on the whole cabin. Burn the bedsheets I was sleeping in and try and cleanse the mattress. Change yours, too, because I slept in there last week, didn't I? Then you need to go to the office and tell them what's going on. They'll send you to the site apothecary and give you what I need, and then they'll tell you to come back here and neither of us are to mingle with the rest of the site until I'm better.”  
“So total confinement?”  
  
Charlie didn't answer, annoyed by the fact that he would be stuck in his house for days, maybe even weeks.  
  
“This disease can be fatal, Charlie,” Severus said softly, his ruined vocal chords straining in the early morning. “Your mother would kill me if I allowed you to push yourself too hard and ruin yourself.”  
“My Mum would just know that's me.” Charlie shrugged. “And that's the other thing you're absolutely not allowed to do -no telling the family. They'll be all over me worse than this rash.”  
“Get to bed,” Severus instructed.  
“You won't tell?” Charlie asked.  
  
There was no answer.  
  
“I'm sorry, Severus...”  
“What for?”  
“I'm meant to be protecting you here... and now there's this. If you've contracted this with your state of health... I'll...”  
“Never forgive yourself?”  
  
Charlie didn't have the energy to return the smirk Severus sent in his direction.  
  
“Don't be so dramatic,” Severus continued. “What will be will be. You saved me when I perhaps should have died. The fact that you did indicates that actually it wasn't my time at all. You were meant to find me.”  
“And now you're meant to be here, nursing me back to health?”  
“Well... maybe fate has a cruel sense of humour.”  
  
Charlie shook his head and looked at his mottled feet. “I'm getting greener by the second.”  
“Let's get you back to bed,” Severus said, suddenly business-like, and Charlie closed his eyes, secretly grateful that there was somebody else there to take charge.  
  
***  
  
“Will you give him this?”  
“If he'll take it,” Severus replied darkly. “But you know I can't admit you. The reserves rules are in place for your own safety.”  
  
Charlie strained his ears to hear the low mutter but didn't catch what the second man said. Seconds later he heard the front door close and he snapped his eyes shut, eager not to be caught listening. His bedroom door creaked open and then Severus entered, his footsteps light.  
  
“Someone left this for you,” he murmured, not raising his voice, clearly hoping not to wake Charlie up. “I'll put it here.”  
“I'm awake,” Charlie tried to answer, but his throat gave out a gravelly grunt instead.  
“Would you like a notepad and pencil?” Severus asked sarcastically, lighting a few candles around the room.  
  
Charlie winced in the dim light and recoiled back into his pillows. He'd been in bed all afternoon and despite feeling rough, he was bored. Severus stepped forward and looked down at him.  
  
“Any improvement.”  
  
Charlie shook his head and turned his eyes to the letter on his bedside table. He wormed his arm out of the sheets and reached for it, fingers closing around the thick parchment. He wanted to ask who had left it, but didn't want to strain his voice nor make Severus explain what hadn't sounded like a particularly pleasant conversation.  
  
“I'll leave you in peace. I'll make you some soup for dinner.”  
  
Severus' own voice sounded weak that evening, and Charlie opened his mouth to tell him to stop talking, to rest instead of cooking dinner. If Severus didn't cook, however, neither of them would eat.  
  
“Sev...” he croaked off the end. “Don't cook. Don't. Menu...” he broke off to cough. “Menu in the cupboard. Takeaway. I'll pay.”  
“I can cook,” Severus said awkwardly.  
“You shouldn't... have to...” Charlie spat in his mouth and tried to swallow it to lubricate his throat.  
  
He gave up and merely shook his head. Severus stared at him.  
  
“Bed wimme?”  
  
Severus nodded and turned, leaving the room. Charlie reached for the letter and fumbled to get it open. He squinted at the handwriting though he didn't need to; he knew who it was from.  
  
 _'Charlie,  
  
Word around the reserve is that you're ill. You need someone to look after you. Your new guard dog will probably intercept this. If you want me by your side, please don't hesitate to ask. I miss you.  
  
Tomás.'_  
  
 ** _Fuck you._**  
  
Charlie screwed up the letter in his fist and lobbed it at the opposite wall. The letter had made him angry, that his ex would try to worm his way back in such a way, using Charlie's own illness and incapability as a method of reconciliation.  
  
“Over my dead body,” he managed to growl, and then choked on his own vitriol and had to sit up to avoid gagging.  
“Not a welcome bit of correspondence?” Severus asked from the doorway, where he was clutching a thin menu in his hand.  
“Bastard,” Charlie rasped. “Absolute fucking twat. Hate him.”  
“Hate is a strong word,” Severus advised.  
  
Charlie shrugged.  
  
“What would you like to eat?”  
“Number twenty-nine. Go to Andrei's cabin. He'll go and get it for us.”  
“This is ridiculous, there's plenty of food here that we can eat. I'll make some soup and we can eat that.”  
“But-”  
“I am _fine_ ,” Severus ground out. “I'm fine. You are my main priority at the moment. So please be quiet and let me care for you.”  
“Nobody takes care of me,” Charlie protested.  
  
An urgent need to piss seized his bladder and Charlie threw the covers back and put his feet to the floor.  
  
“Where are you going?” Severus barked at him.  
“For a wee,” Charlie said emphatically. “Or is that not allowed?  
  
Severus huffed at him and disappeared. Charlie shuffled to the bathroom and glanced at himself for the first time in the mirror. He looked shocking. His entire face was mottled green which stood out against his red hair. He looked like he was wearing a permanent face mask. His lips were pale and his eyes were red.  
  
He stopped looking; he didn't need to be any more depressed.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Is this normal?” Severus asked through gritted teeth. He stared down at the bed where Charlie was lying half-conscious, his eyelids open with delirium.  
  
The reserve Healer remained bent over Charlie for a moment and then straightened up. “Has he been stressed lately? Or working too long?”  
“Yes to both,” Severus answered honestly.  
“Still smoking?” The Healer asked dryly.  
“Yes.”  
“And what about physical exercise?”  
“Isn't trailing dragons around enough?” Severus muttered, beginning to lose his temper.  
“No,” the man said curtly.   
“Well then... no. No exercise other than work.”  
“Not like him. Charlie is normally keen to look after himself, both body and mind.”  
  
Severus knew first hand how Charlie's mindset had most definitely taken a battering, but he didn't feel comfortable detailing the trouble the man had been having to his Healer.  
  
“This is just a bad case,” the wizard said finally, rummaging in his portable bag. “Double the cure dose and maybe add an extra at midday if you feel it's necessary. His flu-like symptoms are a little odd, normally they only last for the first few days and then they're gone, but this is day four and I don't like that they're lingering. I want you to administer Pepper-Up in the mornings and then this sedative in the evening, to ensure that he achieves proper rest. I trust he's not been out of bed?”  
“I doubt he could stand up even if he wanted to.”  
  
Severus closed his fingers around the glass potion bottle and waited for the Healer to speak again.  
  
“And you, Snape? How are you coping with the effort of having to look after him?”   
“There is no effort. He's in bed most of the day.” Severus stared at the man. “Which part of that is supposed to affect me?”  
“I won't have you overdoing it. St Mungo's only allowed me to take over your care on the promise that I would watch you, and just because Weasley was fool enough to contract this from a dying dragon, doesn't mean I'm fool enough to let him undo all of your hard work.”  
“Charlie was no fool.” Severus didn't know why he was angry. “A small lapse in judgement which made a dying creature's last hours on earth happier. I happen to think that is rather honourable.”  
  
The healer blinked once in his direction and then sighed. “Fine, Snape. But I'm sending a medical report back to the hospital for you both, and it's in the rules that should any employee suffer life threatening injury or illness that I am duty bound to contact the family. I'll be writing as soon as I get back to my office.”  
“He doesn't want them notified.”  
“Charlie never wants them notified -he got his way when he broke both of his legs because I was on holiday in the Algarve, but not this time.”  
“He broke both of his legs?”  
“My record on this lad stretch to about five rolls of parchment, Snape. He's a disaster area with muscles. Seems to sniff out injury.”  
  
Charlie groaned on the bed.  
  
“I'll see myself out. Remember to keep the air fresh in here and open the window -trapping him with his own germs will do him no good at all, but don't let him get cold.”  
  
Nodding, Severus waited until the man had passed out into the hallway before he reached out and cupped Charlie's cheek in his palm.  
  
“Get well,” he murmured, before pressing a kiss to Charlie's sweaty forehead.  
  
He withdrew from the stuffy bedroom and headed for the kitchen, desperate for a brew and something to eat. It was lonely without Charlie to talk to. He'd read four books -one a day- since the redhead had fallen ill, and he was running out of options. Putting the kettle on the stove, Severus contemplated food. They didn't have much in the way of supplies and there was nothing that he really fancied; they'd eaten nothing but soup for days.  
  
His voice was once again scratchy with lack of use, even though he had been using it far more than the Healers would have ever permitted. Their every day lives together had grown comfortable, with Charlie's all-day work and Severus venturing out in the afternoon. They came together for dinner and then spent evenings in each other's company. At one point in the night, one of them would end up drifting to the other's bed, and the warmth would see them through till morning.  
  
In short, Severus was sharing with another human being what he had never expected to share in his life. Charlie amused him, Charlie comforted him. Charlie made living in the middle of the mountains with permanent rain worthwhile. Charlie had opened up to him, told him secrets which should never have been admitted, and murmured sweet nothings into his ear, as if he cared.  
  
 _He does care._  
  
Severus made a cup of tea whilst looking out of the small kitchen window. He paid no attention to the motions, running through them without fault. When the mug was ready, he carried it back to Charlie's bedroom and slipped inside once more, perching on the edge of the bed. He put the tea on the bedside cabinet.  
  
“Charlie. I don't care if you can hear me or not.”  
  
Charlie's eyelids fluttered slightly but there was no verbal response.  
  
“I'm going to owl your mother... because I think you need her. But she might bring Bill with her... and I know that you haven't spoken since that day...” He paused, searching Charlie's face for a response. “And I don't know why I'm sitting here even questioning it. I suppose that's because I care for you and I don't want to cause you any more undue stress... and now I'm sitting here confessing my bloody _feelings_.”  
  
He rose to his feet and folded his arms over his chest, annoyed with himself.  
  
“Get well,” he muttered, awkwardness forcing him to turn and flee the room.  
  
***  
Severus hadn't been prepared for the fact that he would feel like a stranger in what he had begun to regard as his home. Just how comfortably he and Charlie had become had only come to light when Molly Weasley had invaded, with the bereft twin in tow. She had fretted at Severus for approximately thirty seconds and then headed for Charlie's bedside, where she was fussing over him in a way which made even Severus feel annoyed.  
  
He was sat on the back step of the cabin looking out over Charlie's small garden. It was fresh from yet more rain and the wood beneath his backside was damp.  
  
“Mum's driven you mad, hasn't she?”  
  
George's voice made Severus jump and he looked over his shoulder, seeing the redhead there holding two cups of tea. He gratefully took one and rested it upon his knee.  
  
“She's insane,” George clarified, sitting down next to him. Severus tried hard not to look at the hole where George's ear used to be. “Always has been, but a bit more since May.”  
“Understandable,” Severus said quietly.  
“And Charlie's really ill now... so she was bound to go a bit loopy.”  
  
Severus nodded and sipped at his tea; it scalded his tongue but it meant he didn't have to answer George.  
  
“You're happy here,” George commented. “You like living with him?”  
  
He nodded once.  
  
“Has he turned the moves on yet?” George looked sideways at him and grinned.  
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Severus answered evenly.   
  
George simply laughed. “Coming home soon?”  
  
Severus didn't answer. The thought of returning to England was an unhappy one. They were silent until a loud sob rent the air.  
  
“Fuck,” George muttered beneath his breath, struggling to his feet. “I knew she'd cry.”  
“He doesn't mind being left alone. Take her for a walk and calm her down. I'll be here.”  
  
George nodded and disappeared into the cabin.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst; past Weasleycest.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." From bad to worse, and then Charlie's had enough.

“Molly, is this really necessary?”  
  
Severus lurked outside the door, pretending not to listen to Molly and Arthur arguing in their son's hospital room. It was hard to miss them, however, when Molly's voice rose every time it came.  
  
“Arthur, can't you see him? Didn't you hear what the Healer said? He might _die_ , Arthur. Cases of dragon pox this strong never leave the victim healthy.”  
“Molly, I heard.” Arthur Weasley sounded tired, far too tired to be upright. “But dragging up ridiculous old talismanic spells like this? Wouldn't you rather we invest our time in something with a higher success rate?”  
“Please, I need silence.”  
  
The broken croak was not that of either of the parents in the room, and Severus had to stop himself from poking his head around the door to watch. He had never seen a Talisman Charm performed before; the Dark Lord had never bothered to meddle with them and Dumbledore, whilst he regarded the strength of their magic, had held more practical solutions in his regard.  
  
Before he realised it, he was actually looking around the door frame, and the scene before him was odd indeed. Molly and Arthur stood on opposite sides of the bed, on the side of which sat an old warlock with long black hair and striking purple robes. On the standard hospital mattress lay Charlie, whose torso was naked, like the rest of his body, but a blanket preserved his modesty from the waist down. Severus quickly skimmed over the slight bump which represented the man's genitals. One chunky foot poked from the end of the blanket, mottled purple and green by the rash which had consumed the young man's skin in his illness.  
  
Placed on each of Charlie's shoulders were two semi-precious stones, glinting in the candlelight. The laboured rise and fall of the redhead's breath was highlighted by the trail of smaller stones which lead down towards his belly button. A wispy mutter of Latin started up and seemed to flutter over Charlie's body. Molly's jaw snapped shut and she stared intently at her son. With an exasperated sigh, Arthur too looked. A movement in the corner of the room caught Severus' eye; a lanky body with folded arms and a look of thunder on its attached face. The youngest Weasley male stood allowing the wall to prop him up, whilst he looked on with distaste at the ritual being performed. A jolt went through Severus when, quite suddenly, sapphire blue eyes looked up and connected to his own. The look of dislike intensified.  
  
The warlock began moving his hands over Charlie's chest, never breaking eye contact with his skin and never missing a beat in what was a surprisingly rhythmic chant of magic.  
  
Pulling himself back to his senses, Severus straightened and resumed his position outside of the door, so that he could no longer see what was going on in the room. A week ago, everything had been fine. Charlie had been stressed, and perhaps unhappy with the lot of living in the same reserve as his ex partner, with Bill's recent attempt at re-kindling their intimacy. Nevertheless, they had existed in a shell of quietness, and peace, and Severus had only come to appreciate it now it was gone.  
  
The decision to transport his ill companion back to England had not been his own. Molly Weasley had lingered for only two days in Romania before she had decided that the situation was too severe to handle with the reserve's paltry stock of potions and healing knowledge. Without Charlie's guardianship, despite his part-time job brewing for it, Severus had been told that he could not remain in the reserve alone. Hence he had accompanied the Weasleys back to England, where the sound of footsteps made him nervous, and the loud banging of a door made him jump.  
  
Even being in the hospital made his throat tight. Severus had never allowed himself to think of the abuse he had suffered within the walls of the building in which he stood. He knew that had Charlie not been admitted there, he would never have returned to it. A shiver passed down his spine and Severus swallowed. Swift footsteps to his right put him on edge, and he looked up.  
  
Ronald Weasley looked pale and every bit as tired as his father. His hair was messy and there were purple circles beneath his eyes, which were narrowed with unhappiness.  
  
“Weasley.” Severus forced the word out to be polite, and followed it with a curt nod of his head. He was not afforded the same in return.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Why are you lurking outside the door like you're family?” Ron turned to him, colour rising in his cheeks.  
“I-”  
“Have nowhere else to go,” Ron finished for him cockily. “Can't go back to Romania, where Charlie swept you off to, and you don't have a home here. Have you even left this place since you got back?”  
  
Severus didn't have an answer for him, because he didn't want to confirm the man's suspicions. Somehow, admitting defeat to the tallest member of the Golden Trio didn't seem like an option.  
  
“You're not welcome.” Ron stepped up to him, almost completely eviscerating the space between them. “Get your greasy nose out of our business, Snape.”  
“With all due respect, Weasley-”  
“Don't pretend to respect me, and I won't pretend to respect you.” Ron laughed, shaking his head. “Let's not both be liars, eh?”  
  
Severus opened his mouth to reply but no words came to fruition due to the way his mind suddenly swum. He could have moaned for the nauseating sensation which flooded his chest and belly. He leant back against the cool hospital wall and closed his eyes, ready for the assaulting images which sprang up against the black of his eyelids.  
  
Charlie as a toddler, unsteady on his feet, reaching for a stuffed toy dragon which Bill was holding out of his reach. Charlie somewhat older, holding a book out of another redheaded boy's reach. Charlie drawing, his fingers working with skill which did not befit his age; Severus concentrated, and saw the beauty of the dragon on the page. Charlie at Hogwarts, his uniform scruffy and a pack of cigarettes in his pocket; leaning back in his chair in a lesson, thinking unsavoury thoughts about his brother. Charlie kicking the living daylights out of a leg on his bed, grunting with anger and pain, his face screwed up with what looked like hellish torment. Charlie sighing with pleasure, his arms wrapped around another man, kissing. Charlie at iron gates, looking through, excitement shattering through his veins with every throb of his heart. Charlie opening a letter, skimming the words quickly and smothering his mouth with his hand. Charlie. Charlie. Charlie.   
  
Severus screwed his face up as the intruding thoughts began to ache in his mind. He balled his fists together and allowed his nails to dig into his palms.  
  
He failed to keep back a grunt when another image surged to the fore; Charlie holding a toddler in his arms, swinging him around, high pitched laughter squealing through the air with joy. With surprise, Severus realised he was looking into the childlike expression and wide-eyed wonder of the man who had stood before him only seconds ago looking so utterly bitter; through Charlie's eyes, he was seeing Ron as an admiring, loving brother. Severus couldn't help but think that Charlie was trying to pass on a message.  
  
The image suddenly dissolved, and all Severus was staring at was the black inside of his own eyelids. He took a deep breath and wasn't surprised to hear a wheeze there. He swallowed before he dared to raise them, unwilling to see the look of hatred directed at him.  
  
“Snape?”   
  
When he finally looked, Ron looked more confused than anything. Forcing strength into his bones, Severus pulled himself up to his full height. From the hospital room he heard the continued whispering of the warlock.  
  
“Your brother wants me here,” he said quietly, so that the words would not pass further than between them. “Charlie is content with me, which you might not believe, but is the truth. If you have issue with this then I suggest that you wait until he wakes up and raise it with him.”  
  
The fervency with which he spoke hurt his ruined vocal chords, but he felt that every word was necessary. Ron's expression did not change immediately, but then collapsed.  
  
“ _If_ he wakes up, you mean,” the redhead corrected quietly. “Mum's resorted to old bollocks, I know what that means. He might die. And if he does...”  
  
There was no point in finishing the sentence. They both knew what the reality would be if Ron's prediction were to come true.  
  
“Who needs another dead brother, right?” the boy almost laughed, but when Severus looked, his face was full of pain.  
  
Severus didn't know what to say to offer comfort. He felt it was not his place. Before he had to think of something to say, however, the man in the purple robes with waist-length black hair shuffled from the hospital room, wringing his hands together. Ron's deep intake of breath was loud before he wheeled about and strode through the door. Cautiously, Severus followed, afraid to look. When he did, however, there was no change in the scenery. Molly and Arthur remained where they stood, and the stones were still placed on Charlie's chest.  
  
“What happened?” Ron asked, joining his father.  
“Nothing,” Arthur muttered. “Like I-”  
“Enough!” Molly announced, sharply. When Severus looked at her, she was wiping harshly at her eyes. “Only time will tell if it did anything, but all this negative talk won't be helping Charlie. Shut up.”  
  
The woman bent over her son and brushed damp curls from his brow to kiss the skin there. Her eyes closed and her lips remained connected to his flesh; none of them heard what she whispered to him. It wasn't the sort of whisper that Severus thought that anyone should be party to, even the woman's husband.  
  
“I need a cup of tea,” Molly announced, pulling back and wiping her face again. “Arthur.”  
“Of course. Ron?”  
“I'll find you in a minute.”  
  
After collecting her handbag, Molly left the room with Arthur at her heels. Ron stepped closer to the head of the bed.  
  
“I'll give you some priva-”  
“No need,” Ron insisted. “I don't want to say anything deep and meaningful. Not going to cry.”  
“Maybe you should?” Severus suggested.  
  
Ron laughed again and dismissed the possibility. “Charlie was always mopping my face up when I was a kid. I'm not going to cry over him now when he least needs it.”  
  
Severus watched as one of Ron's long, slim hands settled on Charlie's bare shoulder.  
  
“You shouldn't disturb the stones.”  
“You believe in this shit?” Ron didn't look at him.  
“Why risk ruining something which might help?”  
  
Ron pulled back. “S'pose you're right.”  
  
With a nod in his direction, Ron ambled to the door and walked through it, leaving Severus alone for what felt like the first time since they had returned to England. He quickly took Molly's vacated seat by his side and picked up his head, giving a cursory glance over his shoulder to check that they really were alone.  
  
“You've got everyone in a state,” Severus said quietly, wondering how heavy the stones on Charlie's skin were, and if they were helping him in any way. “Your mother is calling in warlocks, your brother is talking to me like a normal human being and your father looks awful.”  
  
When there was no response other than a wheezy breath, Severus felt a fool. What had he expected, for Charlie to open his eyes, laugh, and apologise for the trouble he had caused? Trying to ignore the crashing disappointment which came without that reality, Severus squeezed hard on Charlie's hand.  
  
“Odd, that this all started with you sitting by me in one of these infernal beds.”  
  
The silence was deafening.  
  
“How did you ever cope with the silence? And my ridiculous need to write on notepads?”  
  
Notepads, Severus conceded, that he should still have been using. At an appointment the day before, he had received a thorough dressing down from his Healer for using his voice so much. Examinations revealed that the extra stress he had put his throat under had caused more damaged, and increased the amount of days that he might wake up and have no voice at all.  
  
Severus thought again what he had informed the Healer. _It was worth it, just to live normally for a while._  
  
Normality had been a great healer for him, even if it was a normality that Severus was not particularly familiar with. He had lived for so many years alone that it had been a culture shock to wake up and have someone else make him a cup of tea, to plan dinner with, to spend a long evening with by the fire. It was discomforting to recognise just how quickly he had grown used to the company, and now his company lay trounced by what should have been a minor ailment.  
  
He dreaded to think what would happen when Charlie actually did wake up and find himself unable to return to Romania until he made a full recovery, if he ever did. Flesh which had been marked only with freckles would now be marked by the pocks of the rash on his skin. On his off days, Charlie might appear green-tinged. His physical strength would be greatly weakened, which Severus knew would hurt the man more than anything else.  
  
“This is what you get for hugging dragons, Charlie,” Severus muttered beneath his breath. “And this is completely your fault.”  
“Bob's fault.”  
  
The words were broken with gasps, but they were still words.  
  
“Don't... speak... ill... of... the... dead...”  
  
The man's breathing returned to what had become normal and Charlie said nothing else, but Severus held his hand just a little tighter, to keep his presence known.  
  


* * *

  
  
Charlie had been hit by a bludger, three times. The first time was in his second year, when he was a cocky seeker thinking that he was quicker than the balls on the field. The second time, he'd been in his fifth year, and had been making eyes at Ravenclaw's third Chaser and not seen the bastard coming. The third time was during his second to last game as captain of the Gryffindor team, and the Hufflepuff beater, whom Charlie had dumped four days before the match, took it upon himself to fulfil the revenge he thought necessary after being jilted.  
  
Because of those three unfortunate accidents, Charlie knew that the phrase 'feel like I've been hit over the head with a bludger' had no bearing on what he felt like at that moment. Every breath ached in his ribs and head. His eyes were stinging, as though someone had removed all of their lubrication. The skin on his hands and feet, in between his toes and fingers, was burning as if on fire. He felt sick and wondered if he actually had been, because his mouth tasted repulsive. His neck was hot and itchy; he wished somebody had thought to pull his hair away from it.   
  
He had never believed the stories of how horrific dragonpox could actually be, and had even joined in the mocking of the few colleagues who had contracted the disease during his time at the reserve. He wished back every joking comment and hoped that would spare him the hell he was going through.   
  
_Should never have hugged the dragon._  
  
Charlie's attention was grabbed by a faerie drifted across the black expanse of his eyelids. She was glittering, looping the loop in his vision, trying to distract him.  
  
 _Go away, evil faerie._  
  
Another faerie joined the first and Charlie wanted to moan; if he was seeing faeries _that_ small, he knew he was ill. He had only ever hallucinated once before in his life, and that had been due to the two illegal joints he had smoked before said hallucination. There had been no drugs involved this time -much to his disappointment- and that meant that he was ill.  
  
“Fuck off...” he breathed, as another four faeries joined the fray. They seemed to be dancing, little pinpricks of light which were surprisingly painful to his eyes. “Go 'way.”  
“Why?”  
  
A human voice startled him into opening his eyes, an action he'd been trying to find the strength to carry out for what felt like days. The room was bright and he winced, hiding his sore pupils from the daylight flooding the room. The honey coloured stone told him that he was in the hospital, but then Charlie had already known that from the smell he detested.  
  
He had never really detailed to anybody quite how much he hated hospitals, but he did. He loathed them, in fact. They were places of death and of sombre faces; there was no joy to be found there, except for in the maternity ward, and he had no reason to be down there. Unless he was pregnant, Charlie realised, but as he was a man, that wasn't possible. Unless-  
  
“Charlie?”  
  
Dragged from the image of himself with a swollen, pregnant belly which he was lovingly stroking, Charlie forced himself to open his eyes again and that time was prepared for the light. When he saw who was talking to him, he wished the faeries back. Bill smiled tightly at him and leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  
  
“Hi,” Bill went on.  
“Urgh.”  
“Well, yeah.” Bill snorted. “Thought you might say that. I'm just here on my lunch hour. Thought I'd relieve Mum... she's like a bloody lioness over you. Like she always has been.”  
  
Charlie couldn't answer him. His throat was burning, and wanted to convey his need for water, but that would have meant talking to his big brother, and he was still determined not to do so. Bill had sent letters after his disastrous visit to Romania and Charlie had burned all of them without reading. Severus had disapproved, but Charlie had enjoyed each bonfire with a childish sense of glee.  
  
“I'm going to hope that you're not talking because you can't, and not because you still aren't talking to me,” Bill said glumly. “Though knowing you it's probably because you've still got a knut up your arse.”  
  
Charlie so dearly wished that he had the strength to give his brother the finger. He had to settle for turning his head away on the pillow.  
  
“You should know that Mum isn't the only lion guarding your bed,” Bill said softly. “Severus is here. He has nowhere else to go, granted... but Severus is here every day, sitting with you. He and Mum do the crossword together, if you'll believe that. I think she's figured you out though. That you're bonking him, I mean.”  
  
Charlie couldn't help his sharp intake of breath. He glared at Bill.  
  
“I didn't tell her.” Bill held up his hands innocently. “But it's pretty obvious from the way he sits and gazes at you... it's not staring, it's gazing. From one lover to another. The way I've looked at you, and the way you've looked at me. Lovers.”  
  
Charlie continued to stare, daring his brother to condemn what had unfolded between himself and his house guest.  
  
“I didn't think this would come of it when we sent you off together.” Bill laughed, somewhat bitterly, and slumped back in his chair. “I thought he was straight. I wish he was.”  
  
Charlie didn't miss the obvious regret in Bill's tone. His brother knew that had Severus not been there the night he had visited the reserve, Charlie would not have found the strength to resist him, and they would have been together again, as Bill had wanted.  
  
“I'm sure you'll be very happy together,” Bill said snidely. “But just know I won't stand up there and be your best man if you decide to troll him down the aisle, alright?”  
“Like I did for you?” Charlie choked out, regretting his speech which his lungs tightened and he burst into a serious of thick coughs; he could feel the phlegm glugging in his chest.  
  
Bill stared at him, mouth open.  
  
“It killed me to be your best man,” Charlie choked through the words. He began to heave and his entire body ached. He lifted off the bed with the strength of the next and Bill put his hand out to push him back down onto the bed. “Don't!”  
  
Unable to stop the hacking coughs pouring out of his mouth, Charlie turned, hoping to turn and bury his face in the pillow so that he could smother the air away, so that he would have nothing to cough with. His face burned and his body ached and really, he had never felt so awful in his life. Cool fingers grazed the skin of his neck and then, with relief, he felt Bill tying his hair back in a loose ponytail. It was enough to take the immediate edge off the edging.  
  
“Here, drink,” Bill instructed.  
  
Charlie realised then that he was half hanging off the bed when the glass was pressed to his lips. He tried to sip at the liquid but choked again, and spat the mouthful he had taken all over the floor. Frustration turned his coughs to sobs, and he lost the fight to hold himself with dignity. He let his head fall and hang, and allowed his hand to fall to the floor.  
  
“I'm going to call the MediWitches,” Bill informed him. “You're in pain.”  
  
Groaning his reply, Charlie closed his eyes to prevent having to look at his spit on the flagstones. He knew what he needed, but didn't think that they would allow him to have it. He blearily looked up at the wall and saw what he had hoped for -a small square of window which led to daylight beyond, and fresh air too.   
  
“Air.” He mumbled. “Need... fresh air...”  
“What?” Bill asked sharply.  
“Air!”  
“Charlie, you're not making sense... you think you are, but you're just groaning.”  
“Open the... open the... OPEN THE FUCKING WINDOW!”  
  
It was the only way Charlie could get it across, to shout it. Bill clearly understood because his dragon hide boots came into view, long and slim, and Charlie heard the small gust of air as the window was pushed open.  
  
“Thanks.”  
“Back to gibberish, mate,” Bill advised.  
  
Charlie flopped and closed his eyes, unable to summon the energy to be bothered.  
  
***  
  
“He's so drugged up I think you could probably rob him and he wouldn't notice,” someone sniggered, and Charlie wanted to hit them.  
  
It was true that when the MediWitches had arrived, they had plugged him full of so many potions that the taste had all rolled into one herby heaven, and the resultant euphoria had left him so deliriously sleepy that he wanted to kiss the witch who had bestowed it upon him.   
  
“Shurrup,” he moaned happily, nuzzling further back into his pillow. The entire bed had been charmed so that the sheets were cool beneath his hot body. They sensed when he grew too cool and needed to be warm. It seemed to change on the hour, every hour, but the handy wand work meant that he had stopped alternating between sweating and shivering.  
  
“Hey, look whose back.”   
  
George's voice was teasing and a finger prodded Charlie in the ribs gently.  
  
“These drugs are good shit, aren't they?” George whispered. “Never seen you so blissed out.”  
“George, stop bothering him. He's tired.” Percy's voice was scarily authoritative, and worryingly like their mother's.  
“I don't think Charlie's ever gone so long without laughing.”  
“Well he's got a good excuse, don't you think?”  
“Be quiet,” Charlie moaned, wondering if his words made any sense to those around him.  
“Speak more,” George advised. “They'll let you home if you look like you're coming out of it. Mum's dying to get her claws into your care. Make an old woman happy, why don't you?”  
“Don't let her hear you call her old,” Percy advised, somewhat smugly.  
“I've called her worse,” George mused.  
  
“Twat.” Charlie yawned and lazily opened his eyes. Everything was slightly blurred, but he felt happy. “Good. No faeries.”  
“No what?” Percy enquired.  
“Faeries... they were here... sparkling. Fluttering. That sorta thing.”  
“Er -hallucinating there are ye?” George sniggered.  
“Shuddup.”  
“You don't want old Snapey Snape to see you like this, do you?” George teased. “He's here you know... they're having one of those meetings... the type where you don't have any say in your immediate future?”  
  
Charlie felt guilty having been part of one of those meetings with regards to George's future in the past.  
  
“Why is he there?” he asked stupidly.  
“Because secret's out, Charlie boy. Lovers, eh? Nice.”  
“George, please.”  
“Your homo tendencies scare Perce,” George informed Charlie with a wink. “'Fraid you're gonna feel him up and fuck him nice and hard-”  
  
“George!” Their mother's voice rang out over the room. “Don't talk about private things in public! Honest to Merlin, whoever dragged you up did a very poor job.”  
  
Charlie laughed and ended up coughing again.  
  
“When will you all stop scaring me?” his mother asked, putting her hand on his brow. “When will you all stop trying to die on me, hmm?”  
“Sorry...”  
“Oh, sweetheart.” She kissed him messily on the mouth, a mother's kiss, so affectionate that there was nothing wrong about the placement. “Just don't cuddle any more dragons, you odd boy.”  
“Odd about sums him up,” George quipped. “But Snape doesn't seem to mind.”  
“George. That's enough.”  
  
Charlie closed his eyes to the sound of George's laughing. All of a sudden, he longed for the silence of his cabin in Romania, and Severus' comforting, quiet presence, and the strong tea that he could make.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst; past Weasleycest.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." Charlie is going insane. And Severus thinks he might be too.

Within three hours of being in The Burrow again, Charlie was near-on clawing at the walls to get back to Romania and its peace. His mother's continual fussing was causing anger to spike in his blood.   
  
“No, I don't want another cup of tea,” he said, as forcefully as he could.  
“You need plenty of fluids.”  
“And I got that with the five cups you've already given me. In three hours.”  
  
Molly Weasley pursed her lips as she stared at him, and Charlie stared right back at her. A hush descended over those around them.  
  
“Charlie, I won't have you prolong this or make yourself worse again because you're too stubborn to let me look after you.”  
“I'm _fine_.”  
  
Her laugh sent his blood pressure sky high. He opened his mouth to shout at her, but a cool hand suddenly pressed to the small of his back.  
  
“Charlie? Do you want to go for a walk? For some fresh air?” Severus asked, as pointedly as he could in his low, gravelly, ruined voice.  
“Please!”  
  
Three weeks in the hospital had given him back plenty of strength, and Charlie had no problems pushing out of his chair and moving for the back door.  
  
“Coat!” his mother trilled.  
  
He ignored her and stepped outside into the sunshine, finally breathing again as the warmth washed over his freckled skin. It felt like he hadn't been outside for years. He found himself wanting to run around like a dog kept locked up for days on end in a house. He wanted to run his fingers through the grass, jump in the duck pond and climb the biggest tree in the orchard.   
  
_That'd give her a bloody heart attack._  
  
Reluctant to admit it, but adamant not to descend into petty snipes, Charlie knew that his mother was simply worried about him. The truth of the fact was that dragon pox had taken hold of his system so severely that a wrong move at any moment could have resulted in death.  
  
It had truly wiped the floor with him, all because he had held a dragon through its dying hours.  
  
“Better?” Severus asked. “I could see the pressure starting to build.”  
“I was seconds away from blowing,” Charlie admitted. “Severus, we've got to get out of here. We need to get back to Romania.”  
  
Severus' dry, scratchy laugh sounded painful. When he spoke again, chunks of the words were missing after the effort.  
  
“You wouldn't make it to London before she tied you up with magic and forced you back here.”  
“You need to stop speaking so much,” Charlie said reprovingly. “Your voice is awful, has been for days.”  
“Well someone has to stand up for you.”  
“I can stand up for myself,” Charlie ruled. “And I'm not happy here. She's smothering me. And Bill's here and wherever I am, I want to be far away from him.”  
  
Severus looked at him almost apologetically.  
  
“Let's just get home to Romania,” Charlie repeated, nodding to himself. “We'll... run away in the middle of the night.”  
“I don't mean to sound like your mother... but are you sure you're strong enough to make the journey?”  
“I'll have to be.” Charlie shrugged. “We'll take shorter portkeys. Like... I don't know. London to Paris. Paris to Austria. Austria to Hungary. Hungary to Romania.”  
“Long journey,” Severus commented.  
“Well... yeah. But think about it. We can travel.”  
  
Despite himself, and the fact that he realistically knew that his body was not up to speed, Charlie found himself growing excited about the prospect of moving through Europe. He didn't say so, but the thought of doing so with Severus made it even better. He idly wondered what the man would look like with a backpack on his shoulders in casual clothes.  
  
“The tickets will cost money.”  
“I've got it,” Charlie assured him. “Or I could get it if it isn't enough.”  
“And if I can't pay my own way?” Severus questioned. “I never even had time to employ an agent to sell my parents' house before I went with you to Romania. It won't fetch much when I do.”  
“Why would you want to sell your house?” Charlie frowned. “Your name won't be mud forever, Severus. You've heard Harry, if you want to stay here now he thinks you'd be able to. You don't have to come and live in the woods any more.”  
“Where have you picked up the idea that my childhood home is preferable to your cabin?”  
  
Charlie was grateful that he had been listening carefully, drinking in every word; had he not been, he might not have picked up on the dangerous edge that Severus' tone took on.  
  
“Well, you know you're welcome to live with me as long as you want. They've really been appreciating your work in the lab.”  
  
Severus said nothing and did nothing but look down at his feet.  
  
“Do you want to come with me?” Charlie asked softly, realising that he hadn't actually asked, just assumed.  
  
He stepped closer to Severus to force him to lift his gaze. When he did, his eyes were as black and as bottomless as ever, and his expression was unreadable. Charlie was surprised when a chaste kiss was placed on his lips.  
  
“Is that a yes?” he asked hopefully.  
“If it was?” Severus whispered.  
“I'd be happy,” Charlie answered. “Over the moon.”  
“Then, yes.”  
  
Charlie couldn't help the brilliant grin which twisted his lips. He looped his arms around Severus' waist and pulled him closer, wondering if the man would allow the intimate move in a relatively public place. He was thrilled when the man not only permitted his move, but snuggled into his chest. Charlie pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and inhaled from his skin.  
  
“You smell good,” Charlie muttered, nosing against dark hair.  
  
Even when they had been alone in Romania, they had rarely been so intimate. Since his awakening in St Mungo's, however, they had barely been able to keep their hands off one another, despite the recent discovery of their relationship. Charlie wouldn't have denied, if questioned, that it was a big part of his desire to get away from his family -so that they could properly be alone, and finally progress their relationship to the realms of what his brain seemed content to wish for.  
  
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Severus muttered.  
  
Charlie blushed at the seductive tone into his ear.  
  
“I know you nearly died and all,” he whispered back, “but you sound really sexy since that snake got you by the throat.”  
“It was the first thing in years to even try.”  
“How sad.” Charlie kissed his ear. “Maybe I should see if I can better the snake...”  
  
He bent his neck to kiss Severus, smooching a path to the collar of his shirt. So close together, he could feel interest hardening in the wizard's trousers. Charlie grinned into Severus' throat.  
  
“So... you really plan to leave without telling her that you're going?” Severus asked.  
“She'll never let me out of her sight if I even hint at it.”  
“Imagine her reaction when she finds you're gone.”  
“I'll be with you.” Charlie pulled back at him and smiled. “I won't be alone. She knows you can look after me.”  
“I doubt that she'll accept that, Charlie... and then there's the small matter of your brothers, who have the agility to chase after us. Merlin only knows what they might do to me when they find us; perhaps they'll think I've stolen you...”  
  
Charlie snorted. “I can send all of them on their arses. I know all of their weaknesses. Ron's right leg. Bill's right ankle. Ginny's wrist. George's too depressed to come after us. We can take 'em.”  
  
Severus rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You're serious?”  
“Weren't you?” Charlie faltered.  
“I was completely serious about desiring to be with you. I just wondered if you really meant what you said.”  
“That's always been my problem,” Charlie offered. “Always have to say what I'm really thinking... be truthful.”  
“Is that why you told Bill to get out of your cabin?”  
“If I could have, Severus, I would have told him to get out of my life.”  
“You don't mean that,” the man said cautiously, his brow creasing slightly.  
“I do,” Charlie assured him. “You've seen my dreams. You see the memories I have. He married someone else and moved on, and now I deserve to be able to do the same. I've found someone I want to move on with and I won't have him around... sabotaging it,” he finished with a swipe of his hand through the air.  
  
Severus stared at him, looking slightly confused.  
  
“What?” Charlie blushed.  
“You've had other relationships, Charlie,” Severus said quietly. “I think you've got to treat this realistically. He is your brother. Flesh and blood. You can't just sever that relationship.”  
  
Charlie felt frustration rise within him once again, his feelings of randiness from only a few minutes before completely evaporating. “I can do what I bloody well want. You know that my last boyfriend was a complete twat and he's treated me like shit since we went back to Romania. He was nothing. Especially not when compared to you.”  
“Forgive me, I am not used to such... grand statements,” Severus said, and, to Charlie's horror, turned away from him and walked away across the orchard.  
“Severus, where are you going?”   
  
When there was no answer, Charlie aimed a hard kick at the grass and wondered if anything that day would go well for him.  
  
***  
  
“What's the matter with you?” Ron asked, casting a wary eye over where Charlie was stretched out on the sofa, clutching a pillow to his chest, staring in a maudlin fashion at the ceiling.  
  
Charlie waited until his lanky brother had sat down in the opposite two-seater and settled in before he answered.  
  
“Bad day,” he said, non-committally, and pulled the cushion up to his chin. “That's all.”   
“Wanna talk about it?” Ron asked, leaning one elbow on the arm of the chair and propping his head on his hand. “You look down.”  
“I am down.”  
  
They sat in silence until Ron shifted, putting his long legs up beneath him on the cushion. “Is it about Severus?”  
“Yeah,” Charlie said tightly, not offering any more information.  
“Alright then.”  
  
Ron said nothing more and reached for the copy of the Prophet, unfolding it and setting it on his knees. Charlie found himself irritated by Ron's lack of questioning, and wanted to know why his brother wasn't trying to worm his problems out of him.  
  
“I think we had an argument,” he burst out finally, unable to stand the silence. “I don't know where he is. Which is pretty fucking annoying, seeing as we've spent every day of the last few months together. I mean, what the fuck?”  
  
Ron looked at him carefully before chucking the paper aside. “What did you row about?”  
  
Charlie licked his lips and thought about how to answer. “My past relationships.”  
“He was upset that you're a slut?” Ron smiled.  
“Watch your mouth,” Charlie growled, and lobbed the cushion across the rug at Ron, who caught it and in turn pulled it to his own chest. Charlie immediately missed it. “Gimme that back.”  
“No, you were hiding,” Ron announced. “So you don't know where he is?”  
“No idea.”  
  
Charlie rubbed his hands over his face. “I mean, it's not entirely safe out there for him, and I don't know where he is. I'm meant to be protecting him.”  
“Funny, with the way he's been sat by your bedside, I'd say for the last couple of weeks its been the other way round. He's done well at standing up to mum.”  
  
Charlie groaned and threw himself into a sitting position. “I know. I know. It's just... this one person keeps fucking things up for me, and he seems to have fucked this up too. How many more of my relationships is he going to ruin?”  
“I think you know the answer to that,” Ron said cryptically.  
“What?”  
“Well... how many more are you going to let him ruin?”  
  
Ron grimaced at him and threw the scatter cushion back. It hit Charlie in the forehead and bounced onto the floor.  
  
“I don't know,” he said numbly.  
“Why does he ruin them?” Ron asked softly.  
“Because really, nobody compares to him. Or nobody compared... until Severus moved into my cabin in Romania and something happened between us.”  
“It started long before that,” Ron dismissed. “We couldn't pry you away from his bedside at Hogwarts for love nor money. You didn't even stay for the whole of the wake before you were back with him.”  
  
A jolt went through Charlie as he realised.  
  
“Ron, you're a fucking genius,” he breathed, slumping back on the sofa.  
  
Ron stared at him.  
  
“Lucius Malfoy,” Charlie explained, shaking his head. “The day of the funerals, when I left the wake, I went up to the ward and found him sitting by Severus' bed. I bet that's where he's gone, if he's not gone to his childhood home.”  
“Where does Snape live?” Ron asked out of interest.  
“I don't know,” Charlie muttered, feeling guilty. “All I know is that it's up north somewhere.”  
“He doesn't sound northern.”   
“He does when he's angry.” Despite his low mood, Charlie couldn't help but grin thinking of the way that when Severus grew irate, his accent slipped into a northern lilt.  
“So what are you going to do?”  
  
Charlie stared at his feet, slowly thinking through his options. “I don't think me charging up to Malfoy Manor will do any good, they might think I'm there to have a go. And I've got no idea where I'm going if I go up north, not that Mum's ever going to let me out of here anyway.”  
“There are ways around mum...” Ron pointed out.  
“Why are you being so helpful?” Charlie asked, suddenly wondering the question allowed. “You've never liked my attachment to Severus.”  
  
Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
“There's something about watching a man waiting by someone's bedside which makes you think.”  
“What d'you mean?”  
“Are you thick or what?” Ron laughed. “He was so bloody devoted to you. It was almost sickening to watch.”  
“But you still don't like him.”  
“I don't know what to think of him.”  
“Can't you just trust me?”   
“Well... you didn't give me much of a chance. You swept him off to Romania and we haven't seen you until he firecalled to say that you were so ill that he couldn't cope.”  
“And doesn't the fact that he firecalled mum say anything about his character?”  
  
Ron shrugged. “Probably. But I don't like seeing you sitting there with that face on. This won't help your recovery.”  
“We were going to run off back to Romania,” Charlie said ruefully, rubbing at the rug with his toe. “In the dead of night. We were going to make our way across Europe.”  
“Sounds romantic.”  
“Knob off.”  
“I mean it,” Ron insisted. “Running away in the black of night. A nice slow path across the continent. Wish I could do that.”  
  
Charlie sighed and got to his feet. “That was the point of winning the war, Ron. You have your entire life ahead of you to travel wherever you want.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Severus had very little idea where he was. He had walked straight through the back garden of the Burrow, past the boundary fence, and continued down the windy country lane which led towards the small village near to where the Weasleys lived. He assumed that was where he was, and where he had been for the past three hours, sitting on a bench in the main square, looking at the Muggle war memorial in the centre. It was old and the stone was wearing, but the sentiment was there.  
  
 _Everyone has wars. Everyone has scars._  
  
Shifting on the hard bench, he wondered what sort of state Charlie had worked himself into. It was cruel to walk away from him, Severus knew, but he hadn't been able to entertain the idea of staying in the orchard any longer. He needed time away from the redhead to think about what his next move would be. Charlie was blatantly screaming commitment, and without realising it, Severus had fallen headlong into a routine with the boy who had, for reasons he didn't understand, taken it upon himself to situate himself by Severus' side.  
  
He didn't understand why. Charlie had never successfully been able to explain why he had felt so compelled to be a guardian to him, and embarrassed by the very idea, Severus had never really asked him to elaborate.   
  
Charlie wanted to return to Romania as a pair. He wanted Severus to remain in his house even though he no longer needed to hide in a foreign country. That was something far deeper than Severus had expected from his exile.  
  
What frightened him most, as a fully grown, thirty-eight-year-old-man was the fact that he _wanted_ to go. He wanted to be able to fall asleep next to the burly redhead and wake up along side him the morning after. Somehow, despite the fact that he had truly expected to die and been disappointed that he hadn't, he had grown attached to the life that Charlie had helped him to lead.  
  
The emotions which Charlie arose in him unsettled his stomach. He hadn't felt for anybody living in years. His whole role in the war past was for a woman he loved and felt he had a debt towards. There he was, not six months later, cuddling up to another man, who was _nothing_ like him or anyone he had ever known. Charlie Weasley was beautiful, but Severus had never expected to find him so.  
  
He would be a liar if he denied that he was worried what people would think; his integrity was already in tatters as he saw it. He had been attacked once. He wondered if taking up with another man would cast shadows on his vindication, and if perhaps his innocence would be smudged.  
  
 _You are not innocent._  
  
Severus' stomach gave a sudden lurch and, sucking the wind out of his lungs, he realised quite why he was so hesitant to follow Charlie back to Romania. The boy had been looking after him as if he was a saint, as if he had never done anything wrong, only been a pawn and used by those who should have protected him. Severus had felt used before; on the contrary, he had never felt innocent, because he had never been it.  
  
He was on his feet before he knew what he was doing, walking along the pavement with heavy, purposeful steps.  
  
***  
  
“Severus, there you are,” Molly fussed, immediately rising and gesturing him to a chair. “We were wondering where you'd got to. You nearly missed dinner.”  
“Not that there isn't enough left over,” Arthur said, the hint of sarcasm in his tone bounced off his wife like water on a duck's back. He gave Severus a somewhat rueful smile and continued to eat his dinner.  
  
Severus searched around the redheads at the table. “Where's Charlie?”  
“In bed,” Molly said, her tone suddenly dramatic. “He looked pale so I packed him off. I was about to take him up some of this, actually.”  
“I'll take it,” Severus said automatically. “I need to speak with him anyway.”  
“Make sure he eats all of it,” Molly said firmly, pushing a laden tray into Severus' hands. “He's in Percy's old room. I don't know why he couldn't have slept in his and Bill's, but there we are.”  
  
Severus bit his tongue to refrain from telling the woman why her son didn't want to sleep in a room which clearly held too many memories, and turned from the kitchen to take Charlie the food, which he also knew would not be eaten. He kept his tread light on the stairs and kept on climbing until he found the neat nameplate on the door of Percy's bedroom. He balanced the tray on his palm and knocked with the knuckles of his other hand, and opened the door without waiting to be summoned. As he had expected, Charlie was not sleeping, but standing at the window, head and shoulders hanging out, smoking.  
  
“You really need to listen more carefully,” Severus offered, putting the tray down on top of the chest of drawers. “If she catches you smoking, she'll kill you herself.”  
  
Charlie let out what sounded like a bitter laugh and shook his head. Severus waited whilst the man stubbed out his cigarette and pulled his entire body back into the room. He closed the window.  
  
“Where've you been?” Charlie asked, sounding depressed. “I was worried about you.”  
“I was thinking.”  
“Ugh, Mum's pushing food on me again.”  
“I'll vanish it for you.”  
  
Severus knew he had made a mistake in leaving earlier that afternoon when the redhead didn't even smile at him.  
  
“Look, I was thinking about you,” Severus said. “And why I...”  
“Ran away from me,” Charlie finished for him.  
“I worry that you're rushing into something.”  
“No,” Charlie corrected, settling onto his bed. “You worry that _you're_ rushing into something, never mind the fact that you're far too late. We've rushed. This is happening.”  
“Is it?”  
“You came back, so I assume it is.”  
  
Caught out, Severus looked down at his knees.  
  
“Charlie, I think you're labouring under a misapprehension.” Severus clasped his hands together in his lap. “You know me now, you formed an attachment to me when I was very ill. I am not the man you think I am.”  
“I know what you are,” Charlie said, his brow creasing in the middle.  
“Oh? Do you?”  
  
A blush darkened Charlie's cheeks that Severus didn't understand.  
  
“When you were in Romania... you were writing something.”  
  
Severus said nothing.  
  
“I'm sorry, but I'm a nosy person at heart. I'm my mother's son. I found it one day when I went in to pull off the bedding for washing. And I read it.”  
“Charlie, that was private.”  
“I know it was, but so were my dreams.”  
  
Feeling like he'd been slapped around the face, Severus swallowed, staring at the boy on the bed.  
  
“We had to be even.” Charlie shook his head apologetically. “You knew my secrets. I had to know yours.”  
“You took my secrets,” Severus said hotly. “I saw yours without even trying.”  
“But you didn't block them,” Charlie pointed out. “You could have done that. But you didn't. You were too fucking interested by it. The perfect Weasley family has a dark secret and you knew it.”  
“I don't care who you've fucked,” Severus snarled, the low tone ripping at his broken vocal chords. “I didn't ask to see your perversions with your brother. But you picked up that book and you read it.”  
“And I understood the man you were,” Charlie cried. “I read what you'd written about the past and I understood things about you, and why you do things that you do.”  
“Such as?”  
“I can't explain it.”  
  
They looked at one another.  
  
“Eat your food,” Severus said stubbornly. “I'm sure she'll skin me alive if I go back down there with the tray still full.”  
“Don't change the subject.”  
“I'll change what I damn well want.”  
“Severus, why are you so difficult?”  
“And why are you so bloody easy to love?!” Severus burst out angrily, clenching his fingers into fists.  
  
“Why am I so easy to what?” Charlie asked.  
  
Only when the redhead's eyebrows rose into his hair did Severus think about what he had said.  
  
“Why am I so easy to what?” the man repeated.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon fic, with one exception; language; angst; past Weasleycest, anal, rimming.  
> Summary: "To save or let go; Charlie makes a decision which those around him cannot understand, and neither can he." One steamy night in the French capital...

Charlie wasn't going to lie to himself: every second that had passed since Severus had unwittingly announced that he loved him had been a happy, somewhat manic, blur. He was unable to think straight, and he had no idea why such news had put him in such a complete spin.  
  
Charlie had heard proclamations of love before, but they were usually purposefully said, with grand gestures attached. Severus had merely blurted it out and Charlie found that it meant the most of any.  
  
The thrum of excitement was what saw him standing outside the toilet door, staring at the wood and listening to the sounds of his only older brother relieving himself through it. His stomach clenched as he thought about what he planned to do, knowing only the start of the conversation and not where it would end. He guessed that tomorrow he would suffer for his day's exertions, but he couldn't even consider it when courage like he had never known was permeating his every fibre.  
  
The toilet flushed and Charlie drew himself up to his full height, waiting for the door to open. When it did, Bill jumped with surprise and clocked his head on the door frame.  
  
“Ow, Merlin's cock, Charlie, what the fuck?” Bill griped, reaching up to rub at his battered head. “Trying to give me a heart attack?”  
“I need to speak to you,” Charlie said, ignoring the incident. “Get back in there.” He nodded towards the loo.  
  
Bill cast him an odd look but did as he was told, ducking back into the bathroom and crossing to the sink, where he began to rub his head again. Charlie followed him in, shut the door and locked it and followed that with several privacy spells.  
  
“Ooh, serious face,” Bill teased, but Charlie saw that his eyes were wary. “And are you talking to me again now?”  
“Well, actually, that's why I'm here.”  
  
Charlie folded his arms over his chest and tried to control his breathing and suddenly spinning head; he wanted to be taken seriously and didn't think that passing out would do him any favours at all.  
  
“Severus and I are returning to Romania, together, as a couple.”  
“Oh?” Bill asked, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.  
“I'm in love with him,” Charlie said flatly, feeling slightly guilty that Bill was finding such information out first, rather than Severus; he had not replied in kind after Severus' admission earlier that evening.  
“You can't mean that,” Bill assured him, a confident smile twisting his lips.  
  
It infuriated Charlie beyond all reason.  
  
“Actually, I do.” Charlie widened his stance. “And you don't get to tell me what I do and don't mean, it's none of your business, and you don't know my own mind better than I do.”  
“Charlie, come on, he's older than you, he's still practically mute, he's never going to be able to live happily in this country again-”  
“Well then it's a good bloody thing I have a house out of the country and I'm perfectly happy living there, isn't it?”  
  
Bill stared at him and Charlie felt pressure beginning to build under the weight of his brother's azure blue gaze. It would have been easy, he thought, to yield beneath it, to give himself to his brother as he had done so many times before.  
  
“This isn't you talking,” Bill said softly. “Someone has put these words in your mouth.”  
“Maybe.” Charlie shrugged. “But that doesn't mean that I don't mean them, Bill. It was actually Ron that pointed out to me the finer points of what happens between us.”  
“You told Ron?” The colour bleached from Bill's face as he spoke.  
“Oh, don't worry, Saint Bill.” Charlie snorted. “Ron knows no names, just that there was one man who consistently ruined my relationships, and that was because I let him.”  
“What?” Bill asked, stiffly.  
“Ron asked me how many more relationships I was going to let you ruin, and he had a bloody good point, Bill. You're at fault here, but so am I. I let you get to me and Godric knows you know how to, that you know how to twist the knife better than anybody. Maybe I enjoyed the pain when you did it. All I know is I don't enjoy it any more. And I'm leaving. If you follow me, I'll wipe you out of my life completely. Do you understand?”  
  
Bill said nothing, pain splashed across his scarred face. He seemed to be having trouble understanding Charlie's speech, and Charlie wasn't sure he had the patience to hammer home the finer points. He swallowed, feeling a slight pull in his ears –a leftover from the Dragonpox.  
  
“Mum'll never let you go,” Bill said, with pitiful confidence.  
“Mum won't have a choice in the matter, I'm a grown up now.” Charlie shrugged. “And neither will you. I'm saying goodbye, Bill. Do you understand me?”  
  
Bill moved so quickly that all Charlie could do was back into the toilet, and he wobbled on his feet. Bill gripped his hips and yanked him close, smashing their lips together with such force Charlie thought his teeth might fall out. The kiss was everything he remembered of his brother: hard, fast, more than a little bit desperate, and Charlie knew it wasn't what he wanted any more.  
  
He placed his hands on Bill's shoulders and shoved him forcefully away, not caring if he sent his brother down onto his backside. In fact, he rather hoped that was where he would end up, but, graceful as a cat, Bill merely stumbled back to the bath and wiped his lips.  
  
“I see,” Charlie said, and dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. “You've made yourself clear. I'm leaving now. Go and fuck yourself, Bill, or better yet, go and fuck your wife. Don't come knocking in Romania. You won't be welcome.”  
  
He cleared all his spells on the bathroom door and pulled it open, ducking to step out onto the landing. He began to jog down the stairs, eager to put as much distance as he could between himself and Bill before he could ruin his momentous departure. He took the steps two at a time and narrowly missed colliding with the low sloping ceiling down into the main passageway between the kitchen and the sitting room. He turned right into the kitchen and saw, as he was hoping, Severus standing by the door surrounded by two suitcases and Charlie's rucksack.  
  
“Charlie, what's going on?” his father's voice rang out wearily, and Charlie looked at the table to see the rest of his family seated there, each wearing a confused expression of different degrees.  
  
Taking the coat that Severus handed to him, Charlie shrugged into it and zipped it up. He avoided his mother's eyes when he spoke.  
  
“We're going back to Romania. I feel well enough for the trip and I want to get home as soon as possible.”  
“Charlie, this is your home.”  
“Mum, I know it is. But out there is my home too, and now I have to go back to it.”  
“With Severus?” Ron asked.  
  
Charlie looked at him; he was leaning, tall and lanky, against one of the kitchen worktops, arms folded over his chest.  
  
“With Severus,” Charlie confirmed. “You're welcome to come and visit us, if you want, all of you. But I'm not going to be fully better until I'm back where I belong. And that's in Romania.”  
  
His mother burst into tears and Charlie closed his eyes, not wanting to see her sadness. She had never liked him living so far away, but she had accepted it for him. He didn't want to hurt her, but failed to see how he could avoid it in doing the best thing for himself, and his new relationship.  
  
“Mum, please don't cry,” he begged, stepping forward and putting his hands on her shoulders. “I need to do this.”  
“I know you do, you little sod,” she sobbed, sniffing hard. “But why do you have to do live so far away?”  
“Because there's something here which I can't live with,” he answered truthfully. “Someone. I need to be away from them to breathe, Mum. Can you understand that?”  
  
Watery eyes assessed him and Charlie looked back at her, hoping that his expression was suitably blank as to not give away anything more. Relief swamped him when she threw her arms around his middle and squeezed him tightly, kissing whatever parts of him that she could reach.  
  
“You _must_ take it easy, do you understand me?” she said, fiercely, making fists in the front of his coat. “If I hear you're unwell again I'll march straight there and bring you back home, and I'll never let you out again.”  
“Understood,” Charlie promised. “But Severus will look after me, Mum.”  
  
It seemed as though she had forgotten the other man's presence, Charlie thought, as she looked at Severus by the door and immediately released Charlie to descend upon him. Embarrassed laughs came from the rest of the family as Severus found himself subjected to hugs and kisses. Charlie looked at his feet.  
  
“Hey.” One of Ron's long fingers prodded him in the shoulder. “You need any help getting to the Portkey station?”  
“We'll be alright,” Charlie promised, looking up to smile at him. “Ron... you've really helped me out today. Thanks.”  
“I don't know what I did,” Ron muttered, as Charlie swept him into a hug and held onto him tightly. “Don't be a stranger?”  
“Never to you.” Charlie pinched his cheek and then pulled away.  
  
The rest of his hugs with his family were somewhat emotional, Charlie found, and his chest tightened with the kind of grief he always felt when he was returning to Romania for a long stretch. Somehow he knew he wouldn't see them for months on end, and it hurt.  
  
“Well, you'd best be off, I'd imagine you have a Portkey to catch,” Molly said finally, wiping her eyes. “Oh, wait! Bill! You must say goodbye to Bill!”  
  
It was unfortunate that at that moment, Ron caught Charlie's eye and was sure to have seen the emotion which lingered there before Charlie could thrust it away.  
  
“I've already said goodbye to Bill, Mum, don't worry about it. He knows.”  
“Oh, well-” She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Be careful, Charlie. Please. I won't lose you, you know.”  
“I know.” Charlie gave her a smile as he shouldered his rucksack. “We'll keep in touch and take it slowly, I promise.”  
  
Severus opened the door and cool air rushed in to meet them. Charlie picked up one of the waiting suitcases and took one last look at his family, all of whom seemed a bit dewy eyed.  
  
He put his fingers to his lips and blew them a kiss, before stepping outside and closing the door behind him.  
  
***  
  
Shivering, Charlie burrowed deeper into his coat and slid down another few centimetres in the uncomfortable Portkey station seat. Severus was reading the Prophet next to him and they had been in silence for a good while. Charlie found himself overcome with the need to talk.  
  
“Severus?”  
“Mm?”  
“Can you put that down for a sec?”  
  
There was an irritated grunt, but the paper was folded up and set neatly in the man's lap. Severus turned to him with an expectant expression.  
  
“Hi.” Charlie grinned at him, not sure what else to say.  
“Hello,” Severus replied.  
“Why don't you tell me about yourself?” Charlie joked, leaning over to nudge Severus in the shoulder.  
“You know everything there is to know,” Severus muttered.  
“Are you still pissed off that I read your diary?” Charlie sighed.  
“Yes. I'm sure I'll forgive you, though.”  
“You'd better, I just ran away from my family for you.”  
“There was no running, you walked, and willingly. In fact, you were rather leading the charge, Charlie.”  
“I had to get out of there.” Charlie shook his head. “Felt like I was suffocating.”  
“How did your conversation with Bill play out?”  
“He was really hurt,” Charlie said, looking down at his knees. “Which is no more than he deserves, I know...”  
“But that doesn't stop it hurting you, either.”  
  
The kindness in Severus' tone rolled over Charlie like a warm wave and he was swamped with gratitude that the other man understood him.  
  
“I know Ron hasn't been particularly polite to you, but I think we owe him a nice present, or at least a visit to us... he helped me realise something today.”  
“I'm sure it's thrilling, but to be honest, Charlie, I'd rather not know what he helped you realise to help you tell your brother to stop. That is private.”  
“Nothing is private,” Charlie ruled. “Not between us, not if we're going to do this properly, Severus.”  
“I like my privacy, as you will have gathered.”  
“Yeah, I gathered it all right...” Charlie snorted.  
“This will be a learning curve for me, as it already has been,” Severus informed him. “You will have to be patient with me. I have never had a proper relationship and I fear I will make more mistakes than will be forgiveable.”  
  
Charlie waited until the group of American witches with their thousands of bags had passed them before he spoke again.  
  
“We're both going to make mistakes, Severus. But the point is that we make them together, yeah?”  
“Yes.”  
  
They looked at one another, and Charlie led the way to a smile.  
  
“Thirty minutes past ten to Paris, line up here, please!”  
  
The shout for their Portkey rang across the waiting room and Charlie jumped to his feet, eager to be on their way home. Severus followed at a slower pace, gathering his coat around him.  
  
“I can't wait to fall into bed with you tonight,” Charlie whispered into his ear, and pressed a kiss there.  
  


* * *

  
  
Even though he was bone tired and they would have to be up relatively early for the next leg of their journey, Severus couldn't help but yield to the redhead's advances as they kissed in their lavish Parisian hotel room, on a bed which was insanely big. He had told Charlie that it was too much, that they should opt for a cheaper room in a less extravagant hotel, but the man had been insistent, paying for the room without even consulting him further.  
  
The bottle of champagne which they had half-consumed was a further luxury he had protested against, and again had been ignored.  
  
Charlie's hand fondled his cock, working it to hardness with skill which felt sinful. His mouth was full of tongues, wet and sliding, and the odd groan that Charlie let out went straight to his crotch and fuelled it with more blood.  
  
They seemed to be finally heading where they had never been before, and Severus' heart was thumping hard in his chest, nervous and excited at the same time. Charlie seemed to exude confidence and contentment, his features relaxed and his limbs fluid, moving in all the right ways and his hands touching all the right places.  
  
“Severus... which way should we... I want... I want you and I want to be had by you... I don't mind which way we do it... I just want you.” Charlie spoke earnestly, his eyes wide and pleading.  
  
Severus thought about it, unsure of how to proceed. He had never had sex with a man, he didn't know how to give, nor did he really know how to receive. He thought of the blow jobs Charlie had given him and how divine they had felt. He wondered what it would be like to simply lie there and be taken care of, to be made love to.  
  
“Will you...” He broke off, finding that his own pride halted him from finishing the sentence.  
“Gladly,” Charlie assured him, and sealed the promise with a kiss.  
  
Severus held his breath as Charlie moved to lie on top of him, gently nudging apart his legs so that he could rest between them. His fingers ghosted over Severus' erection, teasing him with whisper soft caresses as they moved south, down the crease of his ball sac and beneath them to his perineum. Charlie rubbed there for a moment, massaging the virgin skin. Severus closed his eyes and took a deep swallow, willing himself to remain calm. When Charlie picked up both of his ankles and lifted them into the air, he nearly moaned with humiliation, but he knew that was not the redhead's aim.  
  
His thighs pressed into his chest, exposing his undercarriage to Charlie's eyes. He nearly passed out when he saw Charlie's head bending; when the kiss landed over his anus, he jerked. The talented, wet tongue of his lover began to scrape over his entrance and Severus bit hard into his lip, desperate to maintain control, even though he knew he would lose it eventually. As Charlie's tongue entered him, pressing through the tight ring of muscle of his sphincter, he forced his breath heavily through his nose. His fingers began to shake.  
  
Charlie tongued him, allowing his nose to rub against Severus' perineum and his chin to scrape in his crack. When appreciative little moans rose up, Severus felt colour blossom on his cheeks, throat and chest. He had never been known so intimately by _anyone_.  
  
“S-stop!” He ground out, when his cock gave a dangerous twitch towards orgasm. “Please... prepare me.”  
  
Charlie slowly pulled free of his body and took a moment to regain his breath, which panted over Severus' flesh in soft, delirious waves of pleasure.  
  
“Magically or manually?” Charlie asked quietly. “Both as effective, one is quicker.”  
“Would you think me a slut if I asked for quicker so that I might feel you that much faster?” Severus breathed, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut, desperate for more contact with the boy, no matter what it was.  
“No.”  
  
Charlie made short work of reaching for his wand, pressing the tip to Severus' hole, and whispering the incantation needed to stretch and lubricate him. Severus found his restraint broken by the spell, which oiled his insides like silk. He bucked his hips to the feel of it, and then cried aloud when Charlie's finger crept inside of him, along with the spell.  
  
“Charlie...”  
“What?” Charlie asked teasingly, moving his finger in and out of Severus' body.  
“This will be all over far too soon if you don't stop,” Severus said, between gritted teeth. “Please...”  
  
The cessation of the spell made him gasp and he clenched around Charlie's solitary digit, lodged deep within his arse. Charlie moaned and pulled it free. He moved closer until Severus could feel his belly pressing into the backs of his upward thighs. He felt the wet tip of Charlie pressing at his anus.  
  
“Are you ready?” Charlie asked, suddenly sounding uncertain. “Are you sure you want this?”  
“Am I sure I want you, you mean...” Severus breathed. “Charlie, I have never been more certain of anything.”  
  
Charlie didn't wait for any more encouragement; he pushed forth with his hips and broke through the ring of muscle which had been loosened by his spell. It had not been quite enough to quell all of the burn. Severus let out a hiss and tried to relax as his body protested at the intrusion. He bit hard into his lip and tried not to sob with the new stress he was going through.  
  
“Shh,” Charlie whispered, and Severus jerked, alarmed, wondering if he had been unconsciously speaking aloud his pain. “It's okay... just breathe through it... it might always hurt at first. It burns for me... and then it fades and it's much better...”  
  
Kind hands stroked everything that Charlie could touch -Severus' legs, his chest, his belly, his face, his hair. Charlie kissed his ankle bone and pressed forward with a little more force, and Severus couldn't help but cry out. He felt like he was being split open from the inside out, but there was something more burgeoning in his belly which he had never felt before.  
  
“Can you feel it yet?” Charlie asked, smiling down at him. “Does it feel good yet?”  
  
Severus nodded without question; the burn remained, but the feeling in his belly was spreading, down into his crotch and through his arse, sending a deep, pleasurable tingle right down into his thighs. Charlie came to a halt and they hovered, poised on the threshold of everything that lay before them.  
  
“Move,” Severus breathed. Charlie complied.  
  
Light exploded behind Severus' eyes and the room seemed to disappear in the pleasure which rocked through his body. Charlie worked up a rhythm, pounding him gently at first and then picking up speed until the bed was rocking and the sound of their skin slapping together was all that Severus knew, until Charlie began to cry out. He listened with fascination as Charlie cried his name, over and over, and he felt him shivering. His own cry broke through the noise as meaty fingers curled around his cock and squeezed.  
  
“Fucking you is amazing,” Charlie choked. “So good. So good, Severus, I want to fuck you forever. So shitting tight, oh my God... yes... yessssss....”  
  
Severus knew from the rigid stature of his prick that he wouldn't hold out for much longer, especially with the way that Charlie had begun to wank it, sliding his fist up and down the shaft with only Severus' dripping pre-come as lubricant.  
  
Letting go seemed his only option.  
  
“Charlie...”  
“Do it,” Charlie commanded. “Come. I want you to come for me, Severus. Say my name. Please, God, say my fucking name.”  
  
Severus might have said the boy's name, but he had no real consciousness of doing so as his orgasm seemed to explode out of him, splashing onto his stomach. He marvelled at the heat of it and the pleasure in his veins until Charlie stole his focus away. The redhead froze, his face twisted, and then Severus felt it -the steady spurt of heat into his bowels, filling him up with Charlie's seed. Charlie fell down on top of him, landing with a hard thud which rocked Severus' ribs painfully.  
  
“Fuck.” Charlie murmured the word continually beneath his breath and Severus began to wonder if he was still sane.  
  
He put his fingers into curly red hair and stroked, hoping to soothe the man on his chest. Charlie pulled his head up and looked at him.  
  
“I didn't hurt you, did I?” he whispered.  
“Not at all,” Severus said, surprised at the question. “No... you were... well, I do not claim to know perfection, Charlie, but I would think that was very close to it, if not the actual thing.”  
  
Charlie laughed disbelievingly and buried his face in Severus' throat again. Severus shuddered as he felt Charlie begin to soften within his body, and the steady slide of come trickling down his passage. Charlie's warm mouth kissed his scars and Severus shivered again.  
  
“Cold?” Charlie teased, reaching back for the duvet; he pulled it up over both of them and remained in place, covering Severus' body with his own.  
“Not with you here,” Severus assured him. “Not with you here to do that again.”  
  
He kissed Charlie's lips when they came into view, cupping the man's freckled cheeks in his hands. Severus kept him there, leading the kiss for as long as he wanted, until his lips began to protest and his lungs were aching. Charlie stayed close, a smile on his mouth.  
  
“That was worth waiting for,” he murmured. “You're so responsive.”  
“I tried not to be,” Severus admitted.  
“Never try not to be,” Charlie instructed, and kissed him again.  
  
They lay there swapping lazy post-coital kisses for what seemed like forever until sleep began to tug at Severus' mind. Charlie was a heavy weight on top of him and deliciously warm; his well-padded body was soft and pleasurable to cling on to, and that was exactly what Severus did. Charlie nuzzled against him and purred when his hair was petted, like a companionable cat, and laid kisses along the ravaged flesh of Severus' neck whenever he felt like it.  
  
They fell asleep entwined.  
  
***  
  
The next thing that Severus knew was the Muggle alarm clock blaring out from the side of the bed. It was a loud, obnoxious sound which made him want to murder. He thrust his arm out to the right but groped only mattress, and then he remembered just how large the bed had been.  
  
He cautiously cracked open his eyelids and winced at the sunlight trying to stream through the curtains.  
  
Charlie had rolled off him in the night and was flat out on his back, mouth hanging open, snoring sweetly. Dribble trickled down his chin. Severus smirked at the sight.  
  
He rolled over and finally managed to reach their alarm clock.  
  
“Shit!” he cursed.  
  
Somehow, they had managed to sleep through three rounds of the alarm clock's bleating, and they were due in the Portkey station in roughly ten minutes if they wanted to make their next journey. Charlie grunted at his exclamation and shook his head.  
  
“We're going to be late,” Severus informed him, rolling back over and looking at the sleepy face of his lover.  
“Fuck it, we'll get another one,” Charlie declared, throwing his arms around Severus' middle and drawing him closer. “Hundreds of 'keys and we've got all the time in the fucking world.”  
  
They met in a morning-breath tainted kiss and Severus closed his eyes, savouring every last second of it.  
  
“How do you feel?” Charlie asked, almost shyly. “Any pain or soreness?”  
“I wouldn't know,” Severus answered with truth. “Not at the moment but walking or sitting might be another matter. Frankly, I don't care.”  
  
Charlie smiled at him.  
  
“Thank you,” Severus murmured, before kissing him again. “For everything you have done for me, Charlie.”  
“It was nothing.”  
“And everything,” Severus pointed out. “You have changed both of our lives beyond recognition by simply being kind.”  
“And that's a good thing, right?” Charlie checked, his brow furrowed with worry.  
“I have never known anything sweeter,” Severus promised.  
  
Charlie's face relaxed and he smiled again. He nuzzled closer to Severus' body and held him in a vice-like grip.  
  
“There is still time to go home, Charlie,” Severus pointed out. “If you want to return to England and live with your family, I'm sure we could come to some arrangement.”  
“No,” Charlie said flatly. “I want to go back to Romania and live with you in bloody peace and quiet. I'm getting too old for all the noise at home. They know where I am and I know where they are if they want me or I want them. Me and you belong in Romania, and they belong in England. End of story.”  
“As long as you're sure.”  
  
Charlie nodded in confirmation and Severus let his body relax against the redhead's. It felt so alien to be pressed naked against another man, for there to be no soft breasts pressing into his chest and there to be a mirroring counterpart to his own penis.  
  
“Severus?” Charlie said, dipping his eyes. “Can I tell you something?”  
“As long as it doesn't require any serious brain work on my behalf, absolutely.”  
“I'm in love with you.”  
“What?”  
“You heard me,” Charlie muttered. “Don't make me say it again.”  
  
Severus stared at him in shock. He had been mentally berating himself since he had accidentally blurted out that Charlie was easy to love, but to hear the sentiment back blasted him to his very foundations.  
  
“You can't mean that,” Severus said, unknowingly repeating Bill's words, and thus he did not understand the flicker of annoyance which passed through Charlie's eyes.  
  
“I know my own fucking mind, alright?” Charlie huffed. “And it's telling me I'm in love with you, so you can just bloody put up with it.”  
“Put up with it...” Severus echoed.  
  
Charlie kissed him again then. “We've been through a lot together, Severus. And I want to go through more. I hope that I haven't scared you off, and you're going to go and find the hotel breakfast menu because I'm fucking starving. A good shag always does that to me.”  
  
Severus blinked and couldn't think, breath or even really move. He simply stared at Charlie, who stared back at him with unwavering eyes.  
  
“I don't care what was in your diary,” Charlie went on. “I read the horrible things that you did to innocent people, Severus. And I know that before you turned to our side, that they were of your own volition. I know that. But you've repented a thousand times for your sins and they don't matter to me. We all have sins. I slept with and kissed my brother -that's wrong, Godric knows it was wrong. But we're two sinners together, then, and I love you. Please, say something.”  
  
Severus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried his hardest to put a sentence together but the fates left him cruelly wordless. He shook his head and tried to apologise to Charlie with his eyes.  
  
“I know,” Charlie whispered. “I know, Severus. And it's alright. You've spent the last few months desperate to speak and now the words have deserted you; that's called life.” Charlie laughed and leant forward to kiss him. “You don't have to say anything. Just get me the breakfast menu, and we'll talk later, eh?”  
  
Nodding, Severus made to sit up, but Charlie grabbed him again and roughly seized his mouth for yet another kiss.  
  
“How am I meant to get you the damned menu if you won't let me up?” Severus grunted.  
“Are you a wizard or not?” Charlie smirked.  
  
Severus closed his eyes with embarrassment and wondered how many times in his life Charlie would render him speechless. He had a feeling the number would be excruciatingly high. He summoned the menu and shoved it into the redhead's hand, and was awarded a kiss on the cheek for his success.  
  
“Thanks, love,” Charlie said, opening the thick card and beginning to read.  
  
Severus sat still, the word 'love' echoing in his mind until there was nothing else he could think of. He shivered. Charlie Weasley loved him, and Severus loved him back.  
  
“Merlin's cock,” he breathed, staggered by the turn his life had taken.  
“My cock is much better than his,” Charlie said sagely, turning over the menu. “Later you're going to find out just how much.”  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
